Hamil-ton of Short Stories
by Insert a Catchy Penname Here
Summary: One shots, two shots, drabbles and even small plotlines need a comprehensive home to grow and become something grand. They will be placed here as they come to me, and I hope you all enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them. PROMPTS ARE OPEN!
1. Snow Worries (Hamliza)

Growing up in New York City meant that one was long used to the constant sights and sounds of the city, the availability of resources, and the frigid winters. Someone who grew up in the Caribbean had no such luck, and though the city was his adoptive home, Eliza pitied her boyfriend, she truly did.

"Oh come on," Angelica implored as said boyfriend sat stubbornly on their couch, his hair and outline of his eyes the only parts of him visible beneath his amassed heap of blankets he had tightly wrapped around himself. "It's not that bad. You should've seen this past winter-"

"Papa fell down so many times he lost count!" Peggy interjected with a grin across her youthful face. "And Mama always had it so hot in here that we couldn't freeze if we tried! Besides, it's only November. What're ya gonna do when it's January?"

"Perish slowly, I reckon," the older boy mumbled around his layers, pulling them tighter if it was possible.

"You're just being a baby!" Eliza's younger sister announced, turning her attention away from the trio of older children to readdress piling on her own gear to head outside.

"I didn't even know temperatures could drop below 0," Alexander grumbled unhappily. "You can't possibly expect me to be thrilled about freezing to death. I came all the way from across the sea just to die in the city that was supposed to save me. Thanks, Martha, George, you really did me a solid."

"If you'd get up and get dressed properly, you wouldn't be so miserable!" Angelica reminded, reaching behind her head to unleash her curls from where they'd been trapped under her scarf, coats and headgear. "If you don't hurry up, we're going to leave both of you behind. Riverside Park waits for no one!"

Riverside was relatively new to the Schuyler children; their younger days had been spent on much tamer slopes across their home city, or even on their own property. As they grew older and more experienced in sledding, however, it became their parents' mission to find a suitable place for their offspring to occupy and not complain of boredom, and they'd found it this past winter in Hippo Park. She herself would have had no issue staying on the tamer courses- she found the families and ease of it all quite relaxing- but her sisters were absolutely persistent. Now she was dressed head to toe in proper attire, and the only thing left was to somehow convince her partner to do the same.

"Sledding is fun," she told him with a fond smile. "Once you get started, you'll never stop."

"Maybe I don't want to get started," Alexander grumbled, pulling one of his layers over his head entirely. "I'm not going to mess up your house. Hell, I'll ever get George to come get me, but I refuse to- HEY!"

Before the middle sister could process it, the eldest sister had unceremoniously dumped their guest into the floor, having seized the ends of most of his blankets and yanking up with gusto to rival the strongest of men. Alex glared at her from his position on the floor, waving off his girlfriend when she tried to help him up with a burning red face, but Angie simply smirked and dropped the linens into a heap on the couch.

"Now you don't have an excuse!" She announced smugly. "Get your lazy butt up before it gets too crowded out there!"

"What a shame that would be," the immigrant scoffed, but his expression softened slightly when his girlfriend gently took his hands despite his earlier protests.

"It will be fun," she reminded with a patient smile. "Come on now, Papa and Mama didn't buy you those clothes for them to go to waste."

She was well aware he never asked for them to do so before he said it, and simply dismissed it with a shake of her head and fond eye roll while corralling him into one of their many guest bathrooms. Moving countries mere months earlier had to be extremely difficult to get used to, especially when having been adopted by the prestigious Washington family was his unwelcome ticket in, but she'd been smitten with him throughout all of his temper tantrums, his occasional roughness and cruelty, and his constantly short fuse. Of course it may be silly to expect she'd found "the one" at the tender age of fifteen, but she couldn't imagine herself with any other young man for the rest of her days. As she stood attentively outside the bathroom he was now (hopefully) changing in, her heart panged for reassurance that he felt the same, which he never gave without being prompted. She didn't blame him, not really- Mama had taught her boys were always dense in matters of the heart before being trained by a woman- but it still festered as the door swung up and he waddled out, looking quite skewed and very breathless.

"They really want me to wear three pairs of socks?" The fifteen year old boy demanded, a look of pure disbelief on his face. "What's wrong with just one? I won't fit into those boots with this many!"

"You definitely will," she assured easily. "They're made to accommodate more clothes, which is what makes them winter boots. You somehow have all your clothes on crooked, and your hat is backwards...Surely it got a little cold in the Caribbean, Alexander!"

"We have two very different definitions of cold, my dear," he retorted with a bashful grin, and her heart fluttered with hope at the pet name he reserved exclusively for her.

She straightened his clothing with renewed confidence, her thin fingers gracefully pulling his wild hair away from all of his new protection and making him look worthy to be in the presence of her prestigious family. Her parents hadn't been displeased when she first began bringing him around- he was the Washington's foster, after all- but they certainly grew tired of his constantly unkempt appearance and abrasive, blunt nature that had their mother blushing and throwing fits when he left. As she admired her handwork, she self-consciousnessly reached to tuck in and smooth out her own appearance, a natural instinct to the middle daughter of one of the richest families in all of the country, much less simply New York. Before she could groom herself, she found her small hands brought into Alexander's larger, more calloused ones that were deeply colored compared to her own.

"You look beautiful," he assured as if he could read her mind. "You're always flawless, Betsey. I don't know why you preen like you don't know how stunning you are."

A warm blush coated her cheeks, his fingers curling inside his own and taking great comfort in the way his eyes were intently trained on her own. "It must be force of habit."

He smiled kindly and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose right as her mother strode in, looking at her wits end as she was trailed by Eliza's younger brothers. "Hurry along, you two, we're already late for when we wanted to be there!"

"Yes Mama," Eliza replied politely at once, keeping one of Alex's hands firmly in her own as she made her way toward the exit.

"Don't be upset with her, ma'am," Alex said with a good natured grin toward the matriarch. "She was making sure I didn't look like the Caribbean rat I am."

"Alexander!" The middle eldest sister proclaimed, but before they could dwindle on his comment, they were rushed out the door by Angelica and a very impatient Peggy and herded into the carriage their father had insisted they all ride in to look proper and eloquent against the falling snow.

Just as she'd expected, Alexander absolutely loved sledding, even if he was no good at it. He wiped out far more than he glided gracefully, which amused his close friends who'd also happened to this spot in New York- southern hailing charmer John Laurens, the determined French immigrant Gilbert de Lafayette, the rough and tumble sweetheart Hercules Mulligan, and the ever-poisoned and rigid Aaron Burr- to no end along with her closest sisters. This was merely fuel to his fire, of course, and soon he was sweaty, scarlet-faced and shivering from head to toe. It took Lafayette's tackling and Laurens' prodding to finally get him over to the blanket her mother had set up to talk with the other parents. Eliza, who had retired just before to drink some hot chocolate they'd packed, offered a mug of the same to her partner, who happily took it and began drinking it in long swigs.

"It's so sweet!" He proclaimed, a childish grin breaking across his rosy face. "God, this is the stuff of dreams where I come from!"

She tucked her legs to the side and leaned against his chest, shivering contently as his body heat reached her through their clothes. "Tell me more?"

Alex didn't talk about his home too often- he'd only recently come around to doing so- but she could listen as long as he'd be willing to explain and recount. She listened with the utmost attentiveness as her siblings came and went, and as his friends continued rough-housing and snowball fighting with the other teenagers and children in the area. He was just describing a traditional dish his mother loved to make when a clump of snow came from seemingly nowhere, clocking him right in the nose and sending him reeling backwards from shock of impact.

"Alexander!" She yelped at once, leaning over her bewildered boyfriend. "Are you alright?"

"Direct hit!" Laurens was screeching in delight, kicking up the snow around him. "And there's nothin' you can do about it, Hamilton!"

"Wanna bet?!" Her companion roared, his content smile immediately traded for a wild grin.

As it turned out, he had no idea how to snowball fight at first, and his idea of revenge was wrestling his friend to the ground while shoving ice down the others shirt. Eventually the game continued as it should, and she put all of her questions aside for later as she joined in the festivities, which of course became a competition between both girls and boys. Elizabeth Schuyler was far from the bragging type, but the ladies completely wiped the field with the boys, and despite their complaints if they went again the roles would be reserved, everyone's parents insisted it was time to call peace and head inside to get warm.

"That was such a blast!" Her Alex was puffing as he stripped out of his layers, all of his clothes finding their way in a crumpled heap at his feet once they'd returned home for lunch. "When can we go back?"

"Once everybody has eaten and napped, I reckon," her father replied with a small smile, casting at the youngest members of the family and her very exhausted mother. "Make yourself comfortable in the meantime."

Happy to oblige, she prepared both of them servings of soup and sandwiches from their servants' work, allowing them to sit in content silence as they ate and later retired to the couch, where Alex broke out his cell phone to start come kind of argument on the Internet. The sight of Peggy, who'd stuffed her face minutes before and who was now sound asleep on one of the beanbags, inspired the middle sister enough to lean heavily into her romantic interest before dozing off herself .When she woke once more, she was surprised to find him unaffected by the lull across the mansion, his piercing eyes still intently watching his screen as he fingers flew across the keyboard.

"Why don't you take a break?" She implored softly.

"Hm?" He only now seemed to take notice of her again, his face coloring slightly. "I can't, Betsey, that asshole Jefferson is trying to humiliate me in front of everyone and I won't let it stand!"

She sighed softly; the older student at their high school was going to the bane of both of their existences. Begrudgingly, she decided she ought to stay awake if he was to do the same, but this opened her mind up to the insecurities that had been plaguing her all day.

Of course Alexander insisted he usually used his Internet to argue with people, but he could just as easily be chatting up a million other girls, ones that were far more 'homegrown' or even from his homeland than herself. She'd not missed the way he looked to her beautiful, confident older sister, or even the way he seemed to take every opportunity he could to touch his best friend. He'd also insinuated they thought of him like a Caribbean rat, and though he may joke like that often, it was rarely so bluntly and in front of her parents. It was quite possible that is how he honestly felt they regarded him- it was no secret he was convinced his foster parents kept him as an 'act of self-righteous charity' so why would she or her family be an exception to his flawed logic? What if he was only with her to make himself feel like someone important, someone who could boost his image and make him fit in more with the elites, and as soon as someone more meaningful came along, he'd bail?

"Betsey?" Her beloved's voice brought her back to the present, but it was too late to stop the tears of fear from budding in her eyes. "You're being awfully qu- Oh my God, are you crying? Eliza, what's wrong?"

She looked onto him with sad brown eyes, her face flushing with shame. "I-it's stupid, I'm sorry, g-go back to your argument."

"I already got him to log off," Alex assured with a soft voice she rarely got the pleasure of hearing, his hand cupping her face gently as he brought her closer to him yet. "Even if I hadn't, I'm worried about my pretty girl in blue. What's got you so upset?"

With a shy sniffle, she pressed her cheek into his palm and confessed, "I just…You get so wrapped up with all the things you have to do, and I support you, but…Well, sometimes I worry you really think we think of you like some project from overseas, or that I'm just a placeholder until you can find someone more like you."

For a moment, the other fifteen year old was quiet, and she felt her heart drop to her stomach. Then she was pressed into his slightly sweaty, very Alexander-scented shirt, and all of her fears began melting away when he squeezed her tightly and planted unmistakable kisses wherever he could reach on her head.

"I'm not so good with words," he finally said. "I mean, I can write until my fingers bleed, but I'm a lost cause orally. I know you and your family love me- okay, well, you love me and they enjoy my presence enough to keep allowing me over- and me going on somewhere else? Where did that even come from? Is it something I said? I make people cry all the time, it's probably my bad-"

"It's my own insecurities!" She quickly corrected, her hands covering his own. "Goodness, now I've got you second guessing yourself."

With a crooked grin, he planted a final kiss on her forehead. "You seem to be the only girl who has that effect on me. Trust me, I'm not going anywhere until you finally kick me to the curb. What kind of fool would I be to step down and accept a moldy snack when I've already scored the prettiest, smartest, kindest seven course meal in all of this country?"

She giggled helplessly and pulled him into a hug of her own, ever so conscience of where his face landed against her chest and smiling shyly when he nuzzled closer for reasons not entirely innocent. He may not think he was the best with words, but she found herself breathless by his speeches and ideas like it was the first time they'd met, and as they held each other with the snow falling down and her family quietly asleep, she was certain there was no one else for her.

"…I love you, Alexander."

Her breath caught in her throat of her sudden murmur of affection. They'd never said those three words out loud before, and here she was, making the first move and saying it casually. It wouldn't be so strange imagining Angelica saying that, but was she sure it'd come from her lips? Yes, it must have been, because the fondness in her heart told her that nobody, not even her gorgeous sister, could have what she cradled now.

With the lack of hesitation that would sweep her off her feet for years to come, Alexander replied with sincerity, "I love you too, my Eliza."


	2. Storm (Burr Family)

Aaron Burr was a man with many problems. He didn't actively seek them, of course; they tended to find him instead. Of all places to encounter one of his most difficult issues, he never thought his own home would be one, and yet here he was with his daughter before him, her eyes wide and pleading as she held a scrawny, mewling kitten to her chest.

"Oh please Papa!" Young Theodosia implored, her expression helpless as she clutched the filthy, flea-ridden animal to her school dress. "Please, we must keep him! He will starve without me!"

"My darling, you know we cannot keep animals about with your mother sick," Aaron rebuked gently, his heart aching when he saw his ten year old's pitiful expression. "Not to mention with vermin around, how will you focus on your studies?"

He watched a flash of determination fill her dark eyes, and he knew then he'd already lost this argument. He tried to keep his adoration for his child out of the way of making sure she had strict focus on her studies and that her mental discipline was strong, but that also made her a fierce opponent when they disagreed. As proud as he was that she was becoming more than he could ever hope to be, he was well aware that meant she could elicit what she wanted when she'd made up her mind to achieve it with the most strong willed of men.

"He is not vermin, Papa. He is a cat," she announced in fluent Latin, her eyes twinkling as she stared down her father. "He is my friend and he needs us. Besides, Mama would love a little friend while we away."

She had a point, of course. His wife was laid up constantly now, and her health had been on the decline for several months. Perhaps a creature, no matter how measly and disgusting it were at the time, could serve as a worthy companion as he worked and his child advanced her studies. With a pang of guilt, he was reminded that his greatest rival had many, many faults, but he'd provided plenty of free, easily accessible friends for his Phillip by giving him numerous siblings while his own child seemed to have only herself. If he would not give her siblings or a rest from her education, he might as well give her a 'pet.'

"Only this one," he said sternly despite how his heart melted when her expression lit up. "If your performance drops, we disregard it. Understood?"

"Thank you, Papa!" She threw her arms around him, and though he was not pleased by the way to pitiful animal squeaked and cried out when it was it was pressed between them, he resolved to make it work for his Theo.

…

She named the cat Storm based on the weather that occurred when she located him and based on the way he was a fully grey cat with electric green eyes. He was shy and timid when they first took him in, but now that he was grown he was full of energy, constantly attacking anything that displeased him, which included Aaron on numerous occasions. Despite how his claw and bites marks irritated him, he could not deny their animal was fantastic at keeping disease ridden mice away from them all as well as bugs, and he brought his girls a great deal of happiness. Mauled house shoes and the inability to keep curtains untorn was a small price to pay in the long run, he decided.

Storm turned out to be Theo's most available form of comfort with the passing of her mother. He came in often to see her asleep with her freshly reddened and stained by tears, the cat curled up securely in her arms and occasionally licking her cheeks clean. It was those times he and the widower made eye contact for long moments before the pet continued tending to his child in ways he seemed to fail, and he was ever more certain he'd made the correct decision all those months ago.

…

Aaron had said they'd only have one cat and that would be it. The situation was changed the second he found their pet holed up under their home with kittens sucking at his- well, now her- newly swollen glands. He'd noticed she'd been gaining quite a bit of weight, but of course he wasn't so lucky that it was simply her diet to blame.

"Storm!" Theo cried in relief as she crouched down by his side, her face lit up with a rare genuine smile. "There you are, you silly thing! I could've sworn you'd run off at last, and yet here you are with young of your own!"

What kind of father would he be to deny her something that made her glow for the first time since her mother's death nearly two years ago? He wasn't sure, but he was determined not to be one as she turned to likely request they keep them.

"We need to move them inside, Papa," she announced instead, her face set in firm determination. "Nothing bad can happen to this lot while I'm around."

"How freely you speak and decide for a home not in your name," he mused, raising an eyebrow, but it was clear at once his attempt at scolding his teenager were met with apathy.

Lifting up the first kitten to her breast, she merely replied, "I learned that from you."

…

He told himself like a mantra that he wouldn't get attached to the liter, but he found himself awfully fond of an all-black kitten that Theo named Ashes. She was the most mild-mannered of her siblings, preferring to sit back and hunt independently rather than quarrel over their milk supply. One morning Aaron awoke to find her magically appeared on his chest in his bed, and he made no move to correct this habit going forward.

…

Theo had naturally taken Storm and her other three offspring when she'd wed Joseph Alston, and Aaron concluded after a few evenings that the loneliness would be too much to bear had she not left his beloved Ashes. As it turned out, the now fully matured cat was just as good as her mother had licking away tears or knowing exactly when to curl and purr against her distraught, stressed owner, and she was all he had to call his own once his legacy disappeared at sea at the tender age of twenty nine.

"Oh my little girl, what to say to you?" He sang quietly and brokenly as he scooped his feline, the last of his immediate family, into his arms. "You were my child, like your mother you were kind and when you came into my life I cried, but you'll fix my heart. I'm dedicating every day to you, domestic lives weren't meant to be our styles but I hear you cry and it breaks my heart, and I'll fall apart. You will come of age like this young nation, and I'll bleed and cry for you, I'll make life right for you. If I equip you with a strong foundation, your legacy can live through you, then they'll always be two of the Burr Family. Someday, someday...Yes, the Burr family."

Had he finally lost his mind? Perhaps it would fitting, as he'd long lost everything else. Regardless, he was proud to name her first kitten Theodosia, and was even prouder to maintain all of the liters that came after to preserve the last thing he could possibly control. In fleeting moments of self pity, he often thought he deserved better than his tragic lot in life that came after Hamilton, but at least he could give it to his pets and pass them along to his extended family post his illness.

Much to said family's surprise, the last born kitten he saw he named Hamilton.


	3. His Burn (Role Reversal! Hamliza)

Men cheating on their women was nothing new to discuss across social mediums. This never made it any easier for the victims of such betrayal and heartbreak regardless, but it did provide a vast community from which cries of support and secondhand fury arose from constantly. When a woman cheated on a man, there was too a community for that, but it was much more somber and reclusive in nature, reserved for drunken bar talk, conservations spoken in secrecy, and years of emotional scarring. Cheating took its toll on any gender, but especially in a world where men were ridiculed, shunned and killed for displaying weakness, it was damn near impossible to bring the issues back outside of the home.

Of course, this did not stop Elizabeth Schuyler, the dazzling woman who dominated the political game post becoming a decorated war veteran who'd stolen his heart in more ways than one now.

"Alexander…" Her voice said barely above a whisper now, and he could see the outline of her silhouette from the flames burning in their fireplace.

He held the pamphlet she'd published in one hand while gripping the box of letters she'd written him in the other. A woman accumulating so much power was unheard of in their world, and yet she and her sisters had dominated the field along with his wife's greatest friend-enemy, a sharp-tongued, poised and serious woman named Theodosia. He'd wanted so much from his life in the United States and gotten it, fighting back at home after his now partner came in and stole his heart away, derailing all the plans he'd had before. He'd become content to work in the home, defying gender roles with his short temper and intellectual arguments he'd written countless essays on, and spending so much of his time with the beautiful children he'd made with-

Her. The cheater. The woman he'd married and trusted and given up old dreams for just for her to turn around and cheat on him with one James Reynolds, blackmailed mercilessly from her biggest enemies until she made the Reynolds Pamphlet.

"I saved every letter you wrote me," he said quietly as her silhouette flickered along with fire. "From the moment I saw you, I knew you were mine. I mean, you said you were mine, I thought you were mine."

He focused his attention to the flames, body tensing as he felt her move closer. He forced himself to sit up straight and not give her anything from his demeanor, to not show her all the rage and betrayal that coursed through his veins.

"Do you know what Laurens said when I told him what you'd done? He said, 'You have married an Icarus, who has flown too close to the sun."

His beloved best friend, the man who was far more like a brother than James ever could hope to have been. He was understandably furious with the woman Alex knew he loved just as much, but in those first hours, he'd cried and held him and made it oh-so real. As he was sure she didn't completely understand, his was not the only heart she destroyed.

"Don't. Take. Another step in my direction-! I can't be trusted around you!" He snapped back to reality when he saw how large her shadow was on the wall; he could imagine her now, looking timid and small and apologetic, but he did not want it. "Don't think you can talk your way into these arms, into MY arms!"

It was ironic, truly. He was the one who talked too much for his own good, and he was always the more impulsive of the pair; if he'd ever been unfaithful, he had no doubt he'd probably do something similar. He resolved he did not care as he tightened his grip on the box, throwing it open with a couple of fingers, dropping the pamphlet to the ground, and seized the letters he'd kept in near perfect condition. If he looked at her too long or thought about how much he loved her, he would fall back into her and forgive her with no consequence to what she'd done. Being a woman, she could wriggle free of many predicaments that would lay ruin to a male counterpart, but not this time and not about this.

"I'm burning the letters you wrote me," he stated aloud, his hands trembling as he stared at the mementos of when he'd fallen so in love. "You can stand over there if you like."

"Alexander, please just let me explain, you have to listen to me-!"

"I don't have to do anything!" He snapped, his voice cracking momentarily before he straightened once more and looked over the parchment. "I don't know who you are. As it turns out, I have so much to learn. I won't re-read these letters, I'll just watch them burn."

With that proclamation made and the tears hazing his vison, he threw all of them into the fireplace and let the tears drip down his face. The letters immediately began dissolving in the flames, the preservation coating making the contained heat pop and rise higher. He knew she was almost directly behind him now, so he turned on his heel and faced her.

"You published the letters he wrote you!" He reminded fiercely, his voice dripping with grief but hardening with rage. "You told the whole world how you brought this man into our bed, and though you cleared your name, you have ruined our lives!"

He brushed past her cruelly, telling himself he did not care when she held herself tightly and stared at the ground with her tears falling. Her enemies whispered, and all too much like he would've, she screamed in retaliation. The rumors were all too true and more so, and now the entire town knew how he hadn't been enough, and how a bastard immigrant could never have been enough to tie down such a brilliant force like Eliza.

"Heaven forbid someone whisper you're part of some scheme, your stance only rises the more that you scream!" He borderline shouted, quieting when he thought of the poor children likely listening in despite having been sent out for the evening. "Trust me, I know all about whispers. I see how you look at John."

John had fallen just as captivated with the abolitionist woman with her own opinions and the level head to astound any man. He'd never perused her, left the door open for his brother by heart to whisk her away. He had reason to believe his other brothers in heart felt quite the same about her- who in their right mind wouldn't?- and it hurt to admit to himself he was more surprised it was with a stranger rather than with one of them.

"Alex-"

"Don't!" He turned back and made eye contact, watching as her face was distorted by the darkness surrounding his fire. "I'm not naïve! Yes, I have seen men all around you, and don't think I don't see how they fall for your charm! All of your charm…"

His clenched his fists and bowed his head, exhaling deeply and silently. Eliza even stepped out of the way he returned to the fireplace, grabbing the pamphlet and holding it up for her to see.

"I'm erasing myself from the narrative," he said tightly. "Let future historians wonder how Alexander reacted with you broke his heart! You've thrown it all away, sit back, honey, watch it all burn!"

He hurled the copy into the fire, watching as it climbed higher seemingly along with his pain. She let an audible sob now, stepping away from the dangerously high fire and clutching herself even tighter. He grabbed the oil lamp he'd used to navigate the halls before coming in the room at present, lighting it swiftly and effortlessly before throwing the pitcher of water over the potential hazard.

"And when the time comes, you can explain the children the pain and embarrassment you put their father through," Alexander snapped more quietly, looking at her through the light of his lamp before allowing his gaze to drift to the inky doorway. "When will you learn? They are our legacy! WE are your legacy!"

Eliza tried to hold his eye contact as he went to walk past, but he refused to meet her beautiful brown eyes now. He'd nearly exited the room, intending to go comfort their children should they lurking now, when he heard her speak once more.

"My husband…"

He snapped back around despite feeling his anger finally dying down and taking the form of an intense sadly he wondered if he'd ever shake. "If you thought you were mine, don't."


	4. Requisition (Hamgelica)

All of his life, he'd been told than men like a woman to be compliant, homely, and subservient. A wife was a man's clay, and as the husband, he'd be the rightful sculptor to ensure she was perfect, reflecting his ideals beautifully without ever stepping out of place. It was just as acceptable to beat and berate a woman, as she would be like a child who needed such harsh correction, and to throw her out if a better replacement came along. Such were the ideas of the general populace, and while many were far too weak willed to enforce such sexist concepts, they still grumbled them in bars and preached them to young men.

Alexander, despite being an outspoken man and one who loved to make others see the faults in their ways, disliked these problematic ideas initially, and post coming to America he learned to despise them. He'd been one to go against the grain on principle, sure, but to have and hold a woman was privilege. Even more so, he'd vowed death to the men who treated his mother according to this ideology, and committed to being the model of a real, respectable and loving husband to any of the children he longed to create after the war.

Of course, being a generally good man did not deter him from agreeing that he was reliable with the 'LADIES!' and talking like he could get any one that he wanted around his friends.

"Ma'am, would you like a dance?" He offered to the youngest Schuyler sister, a stunning young woman named Margarita, or 'Peggy'. "I cannot help but be drawn to your beauty tonight."

"It would be a pleasure have I not be fraught with other arrangements," she eloquently declined, reaching out to touch the hand of a well-to-do young man despite his terribly youthful appearance. "Perhaps later. Adieu!"

He was only discouraged for a moment. She was a rather small creature for her age, he reasoned, and he had no reason to believe she would not be changed as she came of age. He made his way through the dancing crowd, the movements all grandiose, suggestive and precise to the point of making him relieved to harbor at the place servants occasionally emerged with food. He caught his friends' eyes, all which sparkled and were full of booze and merriment, and he felt a pang of jealously. Had he grown up around such proper people, he'd likely have less Hell at sweeping a woman of her feet, even for just once dance, and yet he was shying away with other less notables. Surely being Washington's aide-de-camp had to mean _something-_

A beautiful woman right before him shook him out of his sulky thoughts. She was clearly older than her sister, if not by much, and was positively gorgeous as she extended a hand to him. Unsure of what to say, he gently accepted her invitation and allowed her to lead him into the masses once more.

"You strike me as a woman who has never been helplessly in love," he finally managed as they swayed, all thoughts of the dances he'd been taught blasted away at the sight of her.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she replied easily, her grip faltering on him momentarily. "Good sir, you forget yourself."

"You're like me," he justified quickly in an attempt to recover, recalling some of the moves and guiding her around him in a circle. "You've never had someone come along to make you certain you wish to be with them."

She seemed bemused, but he could tell he'd won her attention. "Is that right?"

"I've never been satisfied," he summarized with an easy, slightly sorrow tinted smile.

"My name is Elizabeth Schuyler," she said after a few moments with them simply dancing and listening to the band.

He smiled; he must have earned her respect for her to give a distinction to herself. "Alexander Hamilton."

"General Washington's aide-de-camp," she mused, her eyes lighting up once more as she met his gaze. "You are an immigrant who came to fight in the war, correct?"

"That I am. In New York, you can be a new man," he responded confidently.

"Is that what you intend to be then, soldier?"

"Yes ma'am. Just you wait," he agreed as the song finished, bowing to her respectfully as she curtsied. "It has been a pleasure, Miss Schuyler. Until we meet again."

He was still reeling from his encounter with such a well poised lady when she appeared several minutes later, her expression hardened significantly but her gaze still warm. It was sudden, but he paused his conversation immediately with John Laurens to turn to her, his expression becoming inquisitive.

"Hello again, Miss Schuyler. Laurens here and I were just discussing your practical, no nonsense demeanor," he greeted.

Her expression softened momentarily, but quickly returned to that of determination. "Is that right? Well, I hope it should not be a point of mutual contention, as this shan't change."

His cheeks became dusted with color; how had it that a small woman had reduced him to such a mess in such an eloquent, rapid manor? "Of course not. As a matter of fact, I find it very endearing."

Her mouth quirked up into a small smile now, and he had once felt relief he'd not yet sabotaged his chances with a woman so fascinating. "That is very good to hear. Now, Mister Hamilton, I have someone who would very much like to meet your acquaintance."

She wrapped her lace-covered arms around his one of his, leading him briskly and easily through the crowd. On the other side of the ballroom, there stood another radiant woman, one with curly hair and flushed cheeks. When he met her gaze, her blushed deepened despite how her body raised up to show her confidence, and though she may have bowed, her eyes never left his.

"Angelica Schuyler," she announced. "It is an honor to meet you."

"Schuyler?" He repeated; was it possible the wealthy Phillip Schuyler had produced three stunning daughters?

"My sister," Elizabeth responded easily. "She would like to thank you for all your service."

Angelica's eyes lit up at her sibling's words, and she gave her a smile full of unmistakable love and affection. "Quite right she is, good sir. Why don't we share a dance?"

Once more he felt himself be led out, and this time, he found himself much more inclined to composedly begin to lead her in the routine. Their eyes remained locked, and he had to silently swallow hard before beginning conversation.

"You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied," he voiced.

She set her chin higher now, his gaze even more intense. "Perhaps I don't know what you mean. However, that is an awfully bold statement coming from a man who allowed to dance with my sister."

"Allowed?" His own blush returned with a vengeance, but he was alarmed to see a woman put him down so swiftly. "Pardon my forthcoming, ma'am, but she clearly has quite as a mind of her own."

"Indeed she does," Angelica countered. "And yet, she is my younger sister. You are very handsome, colonel, and it is clear that you know through the way present yourself to the hostesses of this ball. However, I am much more interested in your intentions with my family before I allow you to steal one of us away whilst marrying rich."

Had she heard his earlier conversation with Burr? He simply spun her around, not allowing his hands to leave her once as he performed the complex routine without a hiccup. She may be clearly well-versed, but he was set to prove her he was far more worthy of what he sought for despite her accusations.

"You are like me. I've never been satisfied," he said as they resumed their usual pace. "There are a million things I haven't done, but just you wait."

"Waiting makes the youthful grow weary," she replied thoughtfully. "Tell me now, where is your family from?"

His hands fidgeted now, his fingers sliding down her back before he forced them to steady. "Unimportant, just you wait, now, just you wait. I'm going to do far more than you seem to believe me capable of doing, Miss Schuyler."

As the song ended and they did their pleasantries, her eyes met his and he found himself mirroring her soft, curious and quite clearly endeared expression. "I know you are capable of much, good sir. I intend to find out what your plans are and how a woman like myself can be included in the narrative."

Was she flirting with him? It seemed to be good to be true, but he gave her a genuine smile and extended his hands. "Shall we have another dance, then? We have much to discuss."

* * *

The oldest Schuyler sister had much to balance upon and thrive in despite of. Her closest sister, her dear Eliza, was practical and loving, traits that would land her with a proper suitor with no trouble when she was also incredibly beautiful. Peggy was stunning in a usually bold and invested manor, and she made her way through the world with the kind of blunt inquisition that would send anyone longing for more. Where would she, the eldest, stand on top of her fantastic younger siblings?

The original goal was to be intelligent to silence any man, and to be the one filled with the most wit and cynicism for the problematic society they lived in. Considering how much younger all of her brothers were, she knew she'd have to marry early in life and marry rich, but she had no reason to believe she'd ever find someone she'd be truly happy with until she met Alexander.

He was the most gorgeous man she'd ever laid her eyes upon, and in a frenzy of being enthralled, she'd grabbed her Eliza, the one who'd danced with him just before, and whispered that that one was 'hers'. Her sister, the eloquent and trustworthy soul she was, had made her way back to him and delivered him right to her before she could even consider introducing herself. The month that followed had contained their being in a relationship, an equal, fire-filled, intellectually stimulated, and helpless period that only sent them both craving for the other for the rest of their lives. His love letters were the most fantastic she'd ever read, and having her father's blessing to marry his eldest sent her leaping into her arms and laughing like she was a child.

Now she stood at the alter with him in front of her, her sisters crying with pride along with her usually stoic father. She looked into his eyes the same way she did the first night they'd met, but this time she allowed the lovesick grin to spread across her face as he beamed back at her. The kiss they shared after they were officiated was sweet and gentle, and she did not allow her hand to leave as they celebrated in the reception with their family and friends.

"I do believe you have finally done one thing on your ever-growing list," she voiced as they looked over the festivities they'd induced by finally being wed.

He looked to her curiously, his smile quirked up with mischief. "Is that so? And what might that be, Mrs. Hamilton?"

She wrapped his arms around one of his, resting her head against his shoulder and leaning her mouth up to whisper in his ear. "I am finally satisfied. Shall we go see to it that I make you feel quite the same, _Mr._ Hamilton?"

His face flushed in a way all too similar to the way hers had with they first met, and finally let his mischievous, enamored grin loose. "We shall."


	5. Best of Sons, Best of Daughters

**Author Notes:** This was requested by hamiltonselections and based on one of our old roleplays, which I loved dearly! This was also written in the spirit of hamburrfangirl, the person who inspired me to do this series in the first place and requested more Burr presence. Also, his is a small note, but 'coming of age' is at twenty one, and this was so much fun to write! I'd love to see more requests so I can write for this fascinating and awesome AUs/concepts/ideas!

* * *

Once upon a time, the Burr Family was the most prominent and powerful over their expansive empire. They lived in a mansion that could not possibly fit their numerous staff members alone, but served beautifully for the lavish balls and guests they often hosted. Despite having the obvious requirement for a clear legacy to follow, Aaron Burr Senior and Ester only bore two children, a beautiful maiden named Sarah, and a handsome young man called Aaron Burr (Jr.). As the content and benevolent family of family aged, Sarah, or "Sally", was wed in a lavish ceremony to one Joseph Reeves, and moved on to rule alongside his kingdom as prince and princess in line to be king and queen.

Aaron Burr Jr. loved his parents dearly, but they were constantly busy with their duties to spent time with him the older he got. Now that he was of age, he longed for a partner of his own, and he had no idea where to begin a successful search. Many princes and kings simply enlisted for a woman of his liking, chose from a batch, and wed her with no real consent from her or her family, but he found that practice to be barbaric in the 21st century. He decided keeping his options open and waiting for the right woman to come along were all that he could do, and proceeded to spend his lonely days either studying or going out into the villages and interacting with the commoners.

"You little imp!" A shrill voice cut out on above the masses on a unbearably hot summer's day Aaron was spending helping feed and water his poorest citizens. "I'll hang you for this, don't think that I won't!"

A terrified child no more than seven was running from the angry old lady, who was wielding a broom and wore a terribly nasty expression. Feeling for the poor thing, he cut between the two and extended his arm in a protective manor toward the small boy as the woman stopped in her tracks.

"Prince Burr, this child has stolen from me for the last time! He has no business being a thief; I say we ought to wring his little neck and teach his disgusting family a lesson!" She declared, her bloodshot, furious gaze still on the young boy.

"That is barbaric and unnecessary," Aaron responded sternly, unimpressed by her lack of judgement and moral compass. "I will compensate whatever the child stole and will handle it from here."

In one smooth motion, he plunked one of his bags with approximately twenty five silver and twenty five gold coins into the hag's hands and turned to address the child. Said child had already scrambled away and was now clinging to a young woman dressed in little more than rags, her eyes marked heavily by deep bags and her face covered by dirt and marks of violence. Despite her exhausted demeanor, her eyes snapped to his own as he approached.

"Prince Burr," she said tensely. "I apologize for the inconvenience. I'm afraid we cannot pay you back with money; however, I can direct you to our father to discuss how you'd like retribution."

"There is no need, ma'am. You must eat, after all," Aaron pardoned in a gentle tone. "Please, take this case of supplies for your family. Do you need one for your father?"

The woman looked grimly down at the two cases, which were small foam coolers full of ice, food and drinks, and was about to reply when an older man came over and threw his arm around her. Aaron didn't miss how she flinched away slightly and how the boy hid behind her grimy dress, but he didn't mention it outright.

"We appreciate ya kindness, sir, but we don't need no handouts from the likes of you," the man scoffed, giving him a condensing, fake grin.

"Papa, this man believes we have wronged him," the woman said quietly. "The judgement of payment was brought up."

"I know ya ain't been stealing again," the man growled, his glare suddenly deep and menacing on his two offspring.

"No, Papa," the woman lied easily, but her hands and body posture were tight. "The locals here have been imagining things again."

The man bought it, but he still looked to the prince with a sneer. "What do you want from us, you entitled little snowflake? If you really want to help us out, you'll take this bitch off my hands!"

Aaron set is jaw tightly, but he refused to give this scum the satisfaction of his anger. "Are you offering your daughter to me as a suitor, then?"

"That depends. How much will it pay to give her to you? This is my eldest daughter from home, your highness," the man crooned, looking up through his lids like the Cheshire cat.

"As much as you like." Aaron squared his shoulders and gave him a cold look, one that sent all three of them stepping backwards. "Deliver her to me on this following Saturday and I will give you what you desire. Good day."

As he walked back to his home, he felt a rage bubbling up in his stomach that cooled with clarifying thought. No matter what the cost, he would protect the terrified, clearly abused young woman and her sibling, and he would keep them away from their lowlife father.

* * *

"My father says I am to preform premarital acts with you," Eliza stated tensely as she turned to face the man who'd essentially bought her. "How long will you be keeping me?"

The young man's face looked shocked, but she didn't buy the innocent act. All her life she'd been trained to see through smoke in mirrors and sweet lies, and how to bend others' favor to ensure her and her family survived. Her father was fairly well off due to his former wife's heritage, but one would never guess it based on the way his children walked around in filthy, soiled clothes and stole scraps to stay alive. Ever since their mother's death when she was sixteen, her father had become a selfish, resentful man, one who that hit his children constantly and let them go without basic necessities so he could keep living large while he intended for his offspring to perish. It was only through her willpower and her two closest sisters occasionally sending money to her directly that she'd kept her siblings alive, and she was very thin and very untrusting as a result.

"I never indicated to him I'd ever do such a thing, especially without your consent!" Prince Burr said quickly, face pink. "I would like to welcome you to my home, Miss Schuyler."

"Call me Eliza," she corrected quietly, half expecting him to strike her or at least demean her, but he simply nodded and led her through his mansion in a one-on-one tour.

"And these will be your quarters," he concluded, showing her to a room that she was positive was the size of her current- well, now former- home. "All of the resources are yours to use and to discard at your comfort. This bathroom is yours privately, so you need not worry about anyone bothering you unless you'd like the maids to wake you or tuck you in."

"Your maids tuck you in?" She arched an eyebrow.

"No, no, but…Well, alright, occasionally," he confessed with a shy grin. "I get too tired to properly escort myself to sleep, so they will occasionally ensure it happens."

She gave him one of her unreadable looks, but she was fascinated by the life of luxury he had and what he was now extending to her. She sent him away with assurances that she was fine and stepped into the shower, bathing herself for so long she feared the water would turn frigid, thinking about her siblings who deserved this far above herself the duration. If he truly intended to court and wed her, there was no chance he'd allow her siblings to take residence here as well until that were the case, and so she made a decision to sacrifice her own desire to ensure her brothers and sisters would live through the summertime.

"When shall be wed, good sir?" She asked politely as they ate dinner together that night, her stomach aching from all the food she'd consumed.

Prince Burr- no, he'd said to call him Aaron- gave her a bewildered look as his cheeks darkened. "We haven't even dated, Miss Schuyler. If you'd like me to take you out sometime-"

"I'm not naïve," she interrupted, keeping her hardened gaze down. "You would not take a street urchin off the street like myself if you did not wish for something in return. I implore you to tell me what that is so I may get back to my siblings."

"Siblings?" He repeated. "You have more than one?"

"…Yes sir, I do."

Aaron was silent for a long moment before asking, "Does your Papa treat them the same way he treats you?"

"…He does."

His face was somber as he stood up, wiping his mouth and giving her a smile that was suddenly warm. "I will take care of things, Miss- I mean, Eliza. If you need me, you know where to find me."

With that he was gone, disappearing back into his maze of a home. Eliza had no idea what he intended to do, but she stayed up until the middle of the morning trying to decide what it could be. She was still asleep under the mountains of covers and pillows when she felt three small thumps, jarring her awake even more when she saw it was her three youngest siblings in bed with her.

"Cornelia, Catherine, Rensselaer!" She cried out, scooping up the respective four, two and seven year olds into her arms. "What are you doing here?!"

"Prince Burr told us we get to live here now!" Rensselaer chirped happily. "Paid Papa a lot of money for it, too!"

She decided to push her questions to the back of her mind as she quickly bathed them all, dressing them in brand new clothes from the sacks Cornelia pointed out that Aaron had bought for all of them. She allowed the castle staff to feed them and her two older younger brothers, John, who was sixteen, and Phillip Jeremiah, who was fourteen. It was after finishing her own breakfast that she walked through the mansion in her new simple blue sundress, in search of the mysterious prince who'd shown her family so much kindness.

She finally found him overlooking some of his future kingdom, his outfit consisting of a loose white shirt that left little about his muscles to imagination and a pair of shorts that showed off his curves quite nicely. She found herself blushing a bit as she padded to his side, leaning over the balcony railing herself and giving him an inquisitive look.

"What have you gain by saving us?" She asked softly. "We cannot provide you with anything."

"You provide me with family," Aaron replied simply, smiling at her with such sincerity she felt she may kiss him. "My parents are older and constantly busy. I'd much rather live in a house full of such clear love, laughter and little ones than one empty. It is my pleasure to have them, Eliza, but it is more so my pleasure to have you. Thank you."

She was unsure of what to say, so she simply returned a smile and looked over the kingdom that she once found to be a prison. Perhaps Aaron was one of the only good people left in the world, but she was sure it wouldn't last the more he learned about her troubled past. In the meantime, she resolved to try and enjoy it until the eventual downfall of her family's happiness.

* * *

Falling in love was complicated, but it was completely natural. The days turned into weeks, which added into months and neared a year before he finally worked up the courage to propose. Aaron had been walking in the garden with his Eliza- Betsey, he called her affectionately- when he got to one knee and told her he longed for her to be his forever. Much to his excitement, she cried and said yes, but that was far from the end of their adventure.

Only weeks post the siblings moving in, he'd lost his father due to overworking, and months later lost his mother. His had Phillip Schuyler father arrested after he tried to kill his flowering daughter by starving her and forcing her into an eating disorder, and the responsibilities of being a king so suddenly often got to him late at night when he had to make very difficult decisions. Eliza was right by his side through it all, even when they had to conquer and triumph over one of the worst rebel attacks the kingdom had seen in years occurred directly post their engagement. The encounter left him seriously injured and brought up mental and emotional scars he'd never known about in her, and yet she, with her level head and relentless practicality, ran the kingdom beautifully and appeared in the public eye as they worked together to solve problems concerning corruption within the kingdom and he healed.

Needless to say, Aaron was happy to finally put on the wedding of her dreams two and a half years since they'd met, and given how radiantly she glowed even without all the makeup and dolling up that made her drop-dead gorgeous, she felt quite the same. Her oldest younger brother gave her away at the alter and the entire kingdom rejoiced when they kissed post legally being wed and her becoming Queen. The celebration lasted an entire week's time, and during their honeymoon, he took her to all the places on their mutual bucket list while the castle staff got some much needed paid time off and the younger siblings got a vacation of their own in his sister's kingdom.

Now they sat together in the garden they'd first met in and he'd proposed in, her belly round with their expectant child as he held her hand. In all of his years, he never thought he'd meet the woman of his dreams, and yet there she was in all of her glowing beauty and grace with the beginnings of a family of their own.

"Aaron?" She spoke, her brown eyes wide and shiny as she looked to him.

"Yes, my darling?"

"Thank you. For everything."

He simply smiled and leaned in, kissing her lips and telling her the truth as he would now know it forever. "No, Betsey, thank you. You are the reason I survived all that I have, and I have simply tried to return the favor. I love you."

For once, she smiled back and accepted the compliment as she snuggled into his chest. "Well, if you insist. Lord knows I love you too."

And perhaps they didn't live perfectly, but they did live happily and they did live with more than either of them could have ever hoped for alone. Therefore, King Burr, Queen Elizabeth, and all of their family lived happily ever after; the end.


	6. You Can Stay (Madria)

**Author Notes:** This short story was requested by NonibelleWonder, and is based off of the prompt/song "Poetic Justice" Kendall Lamar! Thank you again for the request and the support, it means a lot! ^-^

* * *

Perhaps she just had a thing for men with his first name, and perhaps he had a thing for people he couldn't have. Either way, James Madison found that all of his poems and all of songs had begun to revolve around her, and it was beginning to be a bit much to stand.

"So when am I going to be able to meet your mysterious stranger?" His best friend's voice drawled over the speaker phone as he half laid over his desk, his brain fried from trying to think of something, anything, to get his mind off of her.

"What the hell are you talking about, Thomas?" He grumbled.

"Oh, don't try to act all innocent now!" Thomas chided, the devilish grin in his voice evident. "I saw you stumbling home the other night with someone wrapped up in your arms like a lovesick puppy! Come on, Jemmy, what's her name?"

Maria. Maria Reynolds, a married woman who'd been in love with him and who'd stolen his heart directly after her engagement with 'the other James'. It was no secret between them how she felt, but she faced the prospect of being socially ruined and possibly killed if she left him quickly. He was a prominent and dangerous man, and while they both longed to be with each other more permanently than quick bathroom sessions and rare nights in the other's home, he wouldn't risk her safety for himself any day.

"I don't know what you're talking about," James replied easily. "How are you and Martha? Did her appointment go well yesterday?"

Perhaps he would have never gotten wrapped up in the gorgeous woman in red had his best friend not friend zoned him before he got the chance to tell him how he felt. Thomas had been dating Martha for a few months, sure, but the elaborate proposal came as a surprise to him. Thomas had bought dozens of fireworks just to spell out the question during the local fourth of July event, and of course she'd cried and said yes with such love and such passion he knew they'd found each other as soulmates. Now that they'd wed and she was pregnant, his best friend couldn't be more ecstatic, and James was just as alone as he felt when he first lost love.

"She's carrying really well!" Thomas reported. "We're still trying to settle on a name, though. What do you think about…Madison?"

His cheeks flushed; would he really name his first born after him? "Th-that sounds…that sounds really nice. Let me know what you decide, okay? I have to go."

"Alright, alright. See ya around."

"See you."

He ended the line and let his head thump on the desk. His producer might be eating up the new album he'd created and recorded, but he was unsure how his fans would react to such a somber, lust-filled album post the summertime hits he'd released the year prior. He lifted his head, staring hard at the blank paper, his brain grinding to think of saying something different, saying something to her that would help him get all of his feelings of hurt and longing out without love songs and tales of heartbreak.

It was almost poetic, the way they fell together and continued to fall apart, and it was terribly unfair. James wrote down the words 'poem' and 'justice', and like a lightbulb had been activated in his mind, began writing and discarding until he finally held a finished product in his hands. He typed it into his laptop and sent it off to his producer, deciding to figure out the rhythm and melodies at a later time.

A knock at the door interrupted his contemplation for what would be the final track of the album, as well as what he'd chose to be the title. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Maria standing there in a sundress that showed her curves very, very well, her hair done up and makeup styled like she was a woman on a mission.

"Miss Reynolds," he greeted coolly.

Her face fell slightly, and he immediately felt bad. "My Jemmy."

"So what are the circumstances allowing you to be here right now?" He asked somberly, his gaze unable to not wander to her well-toned, inviting figure.

"He's a liar and a cheater," she responded with a tight smile. "I'm tired of his games, Jem. I just want to wake up every morning with you."

Finally relinquishing how he was trying to contain himself, James reached his arms around her and squeezed her backside, lifting her hungrily against his own frame. "That can be arranged."

That night was the most passionate, intimate and meaningful they'd ever had, and James went to sleep with full confidence they'd finally gotten their relationship figured out for good. When he opened his eyes again, however, she was gone with a text saying that she'd begin to file for divorce, but the battle was far from over in the interest of their mutual safety. He was furious at first, but it quickly gave way to tears the more he tried to conjure a way to end it with her out of spite. He was in love with her in the worst kind of way, and as long as she kept coming back, he would be patient until he wouldn't have to let her go.

He titled his last song, a ballad about their relationship in a much more positive light, the same as his album and the same as the text he ended up sending her directly after that night (though the text was prefaced with an, 'alright, but just so you know'): You Can Stay.


	7. A Procession of Events (Hamliza)

**Author Notes:** MATURE CHAPTER! Basically, there is implied and suggested gun violence, and a promiscuous woman. You have been warned, my lovelies. This concept with based off the very lovely and talented hamiltonselections!

* * *

Growing up in a strict home meant a lot of things. It meant that you were rarely allowed to leave the house alone, and that when you did, you'd be severely punished if you were seconds after your curfew of 8 PM. It meant that even when you were well of age to begin searching for a suitor, your father kept all of his daughters cooped up and working as his servants or as his pride and joys during 'rich people events', as her younger siblings like to call them. These were the only occasions where any of the Schuyler sisters had a chance of being courted and saved from their dreary, monotonous life of perfect obedience, but thus far, Eliza had performed more poorly than her beloved Peggy, who was hardly eighteen, and she paled in comparison to the radiant and loving Angelica, who'd recently gotten engaged to the very powerful and wealthy Thomas Jefferson.

"Peggy, I fear we may be single for the rest of our days," the nineteen year old commented unhappily as she stood at her sister's side, watching all the guests dance and Thomas flirt easily with Angelica, who flirted and teased back like she'd been in love with him her entire life.

"Speak for yourself!" The eighteen year old giggled lightly, casting a shy wave at the very popular- and even better, partial political counterpart to their father- Aaron Burr, who blew her a sly kiss back.

"Of course," she muttered to herself unhappily before sliding to her father's side. "Father? I am feeling quite ill, may I go home?"

Phillip Schuyler cast a look across the room, spotting his eldest and grunting haughtily. "Mister Jefferson and your responsible sister are to escort you home. I need not tell you of the consequences should you divert from your usual path, correct?"

She'd taught herself to be cool and steady no matter what may come, so she didn't wince she he gave her arm a firm squeeze. "Yes sir, I know what will happen. I will behave, sir."

As she walked home, she silently lamented her struggles. If she were to never marry, she'd be indentured to her abusive, controlling father forever simply because she was born, and being a young woman in America, she was baffled to be told there was nothing she could truly do about it. Her sister asked her if she was alright a couple of times, but she simply brushed her off politely and flopped on the living room couch once she was inside and the intended couple had gone on.

'At least I have some time to myself,' she thought to herself with a small sigh. 'I could draw a bath and make this night some redeemable.'

She flung off her heels with unceremonious hanger, taking satisfaction in how they crashed against the wall with no parent to scold or punish her. To cover her traces, she seized this at once and began her way up the staircase, reaching behind her and dropping her layers of clothing on every other step, relishing in the naughtiness before scooping them back up. By the time she was on the top step, she was able to drop her entire dress, leaving her completely exposed with nobody to criticize or hurt her for being so bold and independent.

"What will you do about this, Father?" She demanded to the empty house with a haughty laugh of her own. "Nothing! You can't control me! My name is Elizabeth Schuyler, and I can be like this any time I want in my own home!"

A loud crash rang across the corridors, sending her running for her life into her room while her heart skipped a beat. Her siblings had been sent to her aunt's for the week, but that didn't mean one didn't stay behind or that they weren't come early, and it would take an immense amount of bribing to get them to stay silent about her bold behavior. She was resigned to beg to her innocent but mischievous family members as she slipped on new undergarments and her nightgown, but she froze in her tracks when she saw who was in her home instead.

It was a young man, one likely older than her, but not by much. His face was flushed up to his ears, and he had a satchel full of things slung over each shoulder as well as a humongous backpack on his back, clearly at full capacity as well. He was holding the family safe in his hands- well, now he was clutching it to his chest- and he looked all the same as a young child who'd be caught stealing a cookie at night.

"Wh-who are you?!" She demanded, a scream hitching her throat when he gave her a mischievous grin.

"Just passing through, ma'am," he drawled in an accent she found immensely hard to discern. "Don't pay any mind to me."

"Th-that's our safe!" She stuttered, eyes wide and entire body trembling. "Yo…you're stealing from us! People like you should be in jail; you're a nasty criminal!"

"I'd be careful about what you call me." His set down the safe, and by the sound of the object he pulled out, she knew with a cold sense of realization he had a gun. "Where I come from, there are consequences when a woman speaks so out of line."

If this was her only chance out of her hellish life, she realized with a sudden surge of clarity she ought to take it. She dropped her arms and walked toward him, back straight and eyes never leaving his own piercing blue ones. He even took a couple of steps back, extending his pistol until the end touched her forehead. Despite all of her survival instincts screaming for her to run or plead, she remained sturdy as her eyes sent him a silent dare to end her life right there.

"You're the most damn courageous woman I've ever met," the criminal finally said, lowering his weapon. "I'd be a stupid man to kill you when you've clearly got some wits and some guts as well."

"You might as well," she blurted before she could fully think. "I…I don't have any joy in this life. You can make sure there are no witnesses, and you'd have done someone a big favor. Go ahead."

His expression was hard to read, but he put away the gun completely as he spoke, his eyes never leaving her own with the same intensity. "What do you mean you don't have any joy here? You live in a mansion with thousands, millions even, of dollars that can easily replace anything I leave with. I'm sure your husband is a very good man to you to give you all this."

"I have no husband," she responded bluntly, her expression darkening as she was reminded. "Just a controlling father."

"Is that why I've never seen you around town?" He inquired, eyes twinkling with something new she'd never seen in someone before.

"I doubt we'd ever cross paths, anyway," she murmured with a pained laugh. "He's very strict about where I am to go and when I am to come back. It's a very boring life, but…"

There was no upside other than the fact she had someone to love her, she supposed. She stepped backwards, sighing softly as she cast a look to the safe. If he took it, her father still had most of his fortune in the banks, and they'd be just fine without it. She could always say she wasn't home before they were robbed, or that she was threatened at gun point; both would still get her punished, but maybe one meant one less severe.

"I've found something much more interesting and valuable than any coin or jewelry," the criminal suddenly decided, walking away and returning empty handed. "Why don't I take the crotchety bastard's daughter instead?"

Leaving without a trace? Angelica had already promised to take their younger siblings into her custody as soon as she was married, and Peggy would have no problem wiggling out before then. Instead of her being left behind and caught between a rock and a hard place, she could reject both and run away with a new man, who she barely knew but seemed exciting and intelligent. She looked at him in stunned silence, a smile slowly making its way across her flushed face.

"I think that sounds much more worth your while, Mister…?"

"Alexander Hamilton. I'm at your service, Miss Schuyler." He took off his fedora and bowed at the waist at her, making her giggle and accept his extended hand.

"Please, call me Eliza."

* * *

This was where the road ended, he supposed. He sat in single cell confinement, twiddling his thumbs back and forth as he listened to guards scream at prisons while other inmates heckled back or did their secret transactions between the walls. The place he'd be thrown into was maximum security, and while he supposed it was far considering the many, many crimes he'd committed, he didn't make it any more bearable.

"Alright, alright, lights out!" One of the guards barked, and moments later the electricity shrieked to being off with the certainly hazardous light box being yanked to the 'off' position.

The prison was rarely quiet, but there was nothing for a solid few moments. Then, a pair of bright, wide eyes appeared at his bars, and he was equally shocked and delighted when he realized that only one person in the entire world had that look.

"Betsey?" He whispered, rushing to hold her hands through the barrier. "How did you get in here? Are you okay, did anyone hurt my angel?"

"Nope, I'm okay," she assured, grinning in the moonlight flowing through the barred window and holding up a large ring of keys. "Now, do you want me to help you get out of here?"

"God, I love you."

They went quickly, both slipping through the first two layers of security before they found themselves backed into a corner. The guards had evidently woken up at the very end, and to try and ambush them would be disastrous. They sat side by side, both holding their breaths until the officers started a casual conversation to cover up small sounds by the convicted and his girlfriend.

"We can't keep waiting here," Alex murmured in her ear. "They make rounds, and if they find us here, we're done for."

"But if we try and go out, they might shoot us," Eliza muttered back, her usually passionate and thoughtful chocolate eyes now shiny with tears. "Goodness, what was I thinking trying to bust you out? Now we're both going to be locked up."

He cast a side glance at the security, then looked back to the woman he loved more than anything else in the world. They were across the country from where they'd first met, and despite all the crimes he'd committed and she'd acted as a 'hostage' or clueless within, she was largely innocent. Even though she only mentioned it a few times, he knew she dreamt of a stable life, one where the two of them stopped all the robbing and adventures and settled in with a few children and a nice house they earned honestly. It was always what she wanted deep down, and as he watched her huddle in fear in the humid, unforgiving prison, he knew what he had to do.

"I'm going to turn myself in," he said softly, squeezing her hand tightly. "Look, they'll give me a nicer sentence if I play by their rules. You just put these keys up front and I'll see you on the other side."

"What if they convict you for life? You'll get at least ten years!" She whispered frantically, wrapping her hands around his arm. "I can't live without you, Alexander! I'll be forced to live my father, I'll be made to marry someone, I-I-I'll…"

"Hey." He pulled her so they looked deeply into each other's gaze, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. "I'll figure it out here. You are the badass woman behind the infamous vigilante of the people, Alexander Hamilton. Nobody can make you do a damn thing you don't want to do. Hold down things for me until I come out a clean man, alright?"

It was true; though he did occasionally rob for his own gain, he was generally a 'Robin Hood' for the poor and beaten down of communities. His name was passed around, and though authorities disliked him, nobody hated him more the bigwigs and privileged snobs he took from. With enough time and faithfulness to helping the public without breaking laws, he was sure he could be released with plenty of life left to begin something new and precious with his beloved Eliza. As they stared into each other's eyes, her tears slipped down and she stood up, pressing herself into the dark corner.

"Kiss me like you're going to miss me," she whispered, and he did, passionately and with so much intent he was sure their lips were pink and swollen when they broke apart. "Stay alive, you nasty criminal. I'll see you on other side."

He grinned; there was his Betsey. "I love you."

"God knows I love you too."

Through his peripheral vision as he stepped out and surrendered himself to the authority figures in saying 'I got lost, I didn't hear lights out', he saw his love quickly make her way to the front desk and begin to act like a confused visitor so she could safely get out. As he sat back down on his bed, he purposefully pulled out a notebook he'd bought for a dollar at the prisons' store and began to jot down ideas on how to be a missionary and a proper citizen, too.

* * *

It had been five years, nine months, and twenty six days since she'd been able to hold him in her arms properly without knowledge he'd been yanked away too soon. She was dressed in a nice navy top and a white skirt, one that would be scandalously short for her bastard father to see should he ever again, and stood expectantly as he went through the customs to freedom. When she spotted him being escorted outside, she could barely contain herself he stepped outside of the gates, allowing her to sprint over and leap into his arms, laughing and crying softly with joy as he caught her easily.

"Did you hold down things?" He whispered, his own voice trembling with emotion as he held her tight.

"I went to school," she whispered back. "Father's money, of course. I have a job at a local factory shop and am more than ready to begin a real life with my freed man."

He beamed and set her down, his hand still securely laced in hers as they looked toward the city of hopes, dreams, and where they would begin a family. The city had been kind to her; it had given her opportunity and given her man back a different person, and it seemed to open wider with potential and beautiful hope as they walked in search of their first home or apartment. Living in a free, slightly damaged and plenty excited life meant a lot of things, but for the first time in her life, Eliza would more than ready to accept what they may be.


	8. Quarter Celebration (Modern! Johnliza)

**Angie Pansy:** Sisters, you would not believe the day I've had

 **Pegleg** : Oof

 **Pegleg:** A Whole Mood

 **Betsey** : Same

 **Pegleg:** Lol rip

Eliza smiled fondly down at her phone but pocketing it in favor of keeping ice cream and groceries balanced in her hands/arms. She'd had quite the day, and while every day tended to be exhausting dealing with twenty four preschoolers in one room, this one was one for the metaphorical books. She'd had to clean up separate children's throw up due to summer stomach bug makes its' rounds, had to deal with about half the class having tantrums when their outdoor time was reduced to save them from heat exhaustion, one child got so overwhelmed they peed in their chair, and two were particularly clingy because their mother had recently been deployed and they missed her terribly. She undeniably loved the job she had the privilege of having for the past five years, but that did not mean it did not take a lot out of her, especially on this day of all days.

Angie Pansy: Clients don't read their cases and then get mad when I quote them and they don't understand what I'm defending, or they tell me I'm trying to incriminate them with false evidence and details they forgot were put in. Like, did these people have a Civics class? I need to know for a few reasons.

 **Pegleg** : Lol I hate my job bc customer service

 **Betsey:** I love my children but they can be more than I can handle tbh

 **Pegleg:** Y u insist to run the classroom with one assistance. Do u just like pain

 **Pegleg:** We're your sisters, we won't judge

 **Pegleg** : O no I killed our sibling

 **Betsey** : Hardy har har. I just got to my apartment, brb

She pulled her key up from her lanyard and jimmied it in the lock, expecting the quiet familiarity of her apartment with the lights off. She wasn't planning anything special for herself this year, not really; just a nice dinner with her beloved when the weekend came and it was convenient for everybody. Needless to say, she was quite surprised when she stepped inside and the lights flipped on, revealing a literal fold-out plastic kitchen table full of her favorite foods and a beautiful blue cape covered with whipped cream icing.

"Happy birthday!" Several voices declared, her much loved family and friends who were like family popping out from various hiding places with delighted grins.

She immediately screamed, partially from excitement and partially from genuine alarm, and ran toward her closest sisters, who were the closest from underneath the table. "You all, you didn't have to do this for me!"

"Oh, we would've done it even if it hadn't been your boyfriend's idea," Angelica told her with a grin, kissing her left cheek as Peggy kissed her right.

"Yeah!" The youngest Irish triplet said excitedly. "We were just going to do it on Saturday, but noooo, he insisted it had to be your actual birthday! I mean, I can't blame his logic…"

"Jonathan Laurens!" She called above the swells of her blood relatives, beaming when her grinning partner emerged with several candles in hand. "You orchestrated all of this for me? I told you nothing too fancy!"

"And I told you it wasn't going to happen!" He replied proudly, walking toward her and capturing her lips with a tender kiss. "I love you too much to not celebrate your arrival to the planet in glorious fashion."

Though it wasn't her childhood home, she did find it to be quite fantastic as they all ate and sipped tasty wine together, joking about the old times and watching the children play and sing a little song they'd composed with her mother on piano about how much they loved their second oldest sister, which made her cry which made them concerned. As they night wore on, she blew out her twenty five candles with a bit of assistance from her youngest two siblings, laughing and allowing John to stuff the first bite in her mouth like it was their wedding.

"You are such a goober," she told him fondly, licking at the icing around her mouth. "You act as though tonight we are married!"

"There would be no finer a day to marry you!" He replied, and she wasn't able to inquire if that was his dorky, heartfelt proposal before she was rushed to get her piece so the rest of them could dig in as well.

Her presents were as unnecessarily extravagant and excellently practical as she always loved; a new laptop to replace her three year old one, more paints for her modest art, new music books to learn through and journals to write in, and of course all the school supplies for her classroom that she'd need to get through the first semester confidently. She kissed her family's cheeks and foreheads until she was sure she'd run dry, and was setting up her new device when John shimmied his way to her side. She was expecting him to be a least tipsy, but the very light of alcohol was all she caught when she put her head on his shoulder and kissed her the side of her face.

"Not drinking tonight?" She asked softly. "Just because I have class tomorrow doesn't mean you're not allowed to have more than a sip or two with me."

"I want to remember your quarter of your life birthday," he replied with a blush dusting his cheeks, making her heart melt while becoming full beyond what she thought it capable.

"Quarter life? Do you really think I'll live to be 100?" She asked softly, unaware how her family's eyes were all on them now.

"Well…I'm not sure," he confessed, but before she could react he stood up. "Eliza, you have made my life far better what it could ever be before. You are a very kind, fantastically talented, generous, and entirely beautiful woman. You saved me from the lowest point of my life and breathed so much joy and fulfillment into me, and I've tried for the past two years to give that back to you despite all my faults. I'm not always the best boyfriend-"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"I may be flawed?" He offered, his blush deepening at once. "But I do know I love you more than I could ever express in a million words. I want to spend the rest of our lives together, growing and loving and making a million mistakes and if I'm lucky, making a family. Well…What I'm trying to ask…Elizabeth Marie Schuyler, will you marry me?"

She dropped to her knees as he took to one, kissing him so fiercely and throwing her arms around him so bodily they both fell to the ground giggling and kissing. "Yes, yes of course!"

As her family cheered and her boyfriend- no, her handsome, nearly perfect _fiancé_ \- slipped her brand new engagement band on, she concluded that had all been a day she'd relive a million times if it lead to this duel celebration of life and love.


	9. (R)esolution

**Author Notes:** MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR SUICIDE ATTEMPTS, ABUSE, AND SELF HARM. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE THINGS.

Though there is a happy ending, SUICIDE, ABUSE, AND SELF HARM ARE DEPICTED AT LARGE AND THIS STORY SHOULD BE READ IF YOU MAY GET TRIGGERED. Take care of yourselves, my loves. Be safe, and I'll see you next time for a much more light hearted chapter. Remember, you are valuable, you are important, and the world needs you even when you feel you're at worse.

The National Suicide Prevention Life, open 24/7, 365: 1-800-273-8255.  
A text service I've used in times of personal crisis/depression/anxiety: Text HOME to 741741

* * *

Alexander resolved beforehand that there would never be a better time to finally stop all the pain that raged through his body every day. The autumn wind tousled his lengthy brown hair as he made his way up to the highest building in town, one that was once a bank before it was ran into the ground by a mixture of competition and violent, sexual scandals that raged the place infamous. Plenty of bidders were still fighting for the rights to expansive and modern building, and though he had an internal bet that the very rapidly expanding publishing company would be brought in due to necessity, potential, and money, he had no intention of being around to find out. In the notebook a little over two thirds full of lengthy letters he'd written for the people he loved, he wrote that his best friend was required to come to his grave and tell it the results, just in case he ended up as a ghost in limbo.

"Hey!" He yelped as he looked up from unlacing his favorite shoes, realizing with a weight that dropped hard in his stomach once he realized that a girl- a woman- with braided hair was his unexpected company on the top of the roof. "Hey…Don't do it. Please."

She was sitting on the railing that separated the view from the peril, her somewhat long dark hair in the beautifully crafted and tied braids that overlapped into each other, and a varsity styled jacket in pastel pink covered up a pale green summer dress that billowed away from her curvy, slender body. At the sound of his plea, which he himself had no idea why he'd exclaimed when he insisted internally he was apathetic if she were to die as well, she turned around partially and revealed sad hazel eyes that sparkled in the sunset.

"I'd tell you my woes, but you've probably heard it all before," she said in an exhaustedly melancholy tone before turning to face the city once more.

Given how he seemed to be a human comfort to most of his friends, he was sure he likely had. As he slowly felt his legs walking to her, he found himself silently lamenting that she was stealing his own opportunity to release himself from the mortal coil, but his empathy sharply countered that nobody like her deserved to go in such a state. There was no reason to die on the rooftop of an empty building, even if the view was spectacular, especially if she was even a little better than him. Despite how she seemed weighed down by her plights, he had no reason to assign her morality considering he was positive his own was incomparably worse; it was with all this in mind he sat beside her on the railing. For a few serene moments, all to be heard was the winds and the occasional squeak beneath them as they perched together, legs side by side and lazily swinging, and he felt his breath catch when they made direct eye contact and he saw how her irises shone in the sun and how her dark, curly hair was coming undone around her beautiful, youthful face.

"You've probably heard it all before, like I said," she began with a heavy sigh. "I met…I met my ex-boyfriend nearly three years ago. We spent so much time together and loved so fiercely I figured it would never end, and without warning, he announces to me he's 'done' before proposing to the other girl he'd been cheating on me with. The girl looked so happy and had never heard my name before, I found out, and so I was happy for them and attended their wedding, but…Well, needless to say I've been left with some pretty gaping holes in my heart."

"And that's why you're up here, wanting to throw away your life for someone who never loved you?" He demanded with more piss and vinegar than he originally intended, but it was completely true he knew a sour love was absolutely nothing to commit suicide over. "For God's sake, please! You must be kidding me, and for some stupid reason you got here before me, so now we're together and bound by fate no matter what we do. I know you're upset because you can't have what you wanted, but you're lucky you've never been robbed of anything by death or by desperate criminals. There's a whole life ahead of you to go live! Are you going to let the asshole get the better of you and never have a better life?"

The young woman looked thoughtful for a long moment before she swung her legs back to the safer side, getting to her feet and helping him down before speaking. "I've feeling better, thank you for listening."

"Anytime," he replied softly. "You're going to do great things with your life, I just know it."

She smiled and braided his own lengthy hair before seeming to disappear. He looked over the edge, sighing heavily as he realized that if he leapt now, she might see and he'd be hypocrite. Resigned to the day's fate, he headed back down and headed to a home vacant of any love from his abusive father or dangerous, violent brother, hiding in his room tightly and rocking to himself to sleep as the screams ricocheted off the walls and his door was pounded on so fiercely he worried it would break open.

When the morning light came through his small bedroom window, Alexander was relieved that this day would be the day. He climbed onto his desk, surveying his spotlessly cleaned and personally organized room before crawling into the fenced in backyard via his alternate exit. Once he was on his back, he eased the glass shut and climbed the tall fence, running to his college and powering through a day of classes like the academic he always took great pride in being.

Despite his love for where he'd gone, he was soon at his building of choice and pausing briefly to catch his breath at the top. He'd just slid his shoes off when he saw another girl, one much smaller than the one with braided hair the before, and he nearly went back down with the feelings of frustration and pain racing through his head upon realizing he'd not be able to go through with his plight yet again.

"Hey!" He yelled immediately and with no hesitation when she hiked a leg up over the railing. "Don't do it, please!"

She turned around, and he realized she looked an astonishing amount like the girl from the day before despite her very different style. This very young woman had on a white tank top with a black-lettered quote on it and denim blue jeans,, and though her fluffy and beautiful light, curly brown hair was secured in a cheerful yellow band, her expression was heavily stained with tears.

"I'd tell you my woes, but you've probably heard it all before," she sniffled, and he felt his body move to stand with her before he consciously decided to.

"So what if I have?" He countered, not unkindly. "That doesn't mean they don't matter."

He was pretty sure she almost half smiled before she let out a sigh, looking over the city and hugging herself tightly. "I don't fit in with anyone here or anywhere else. My family is wealthy and beautiful, none more beautiful than my older sisters. I'm always left behind, always forgotten, and I'm fresh out of high school with no idea what I want to do during my limited time on Earth. People come into my life and then they steal something- my heart, my money, my experience- and I'm left a husk of a person. I don't matter except to give until I'm dead."

"For God's sake, please!" Alexander exclaimed, grabbing her shoulders briefly and looking into her wet, red-rimmed brown eyes. "Are you serious? I just can't believe that for some reason, you get here before me, but now we're bound together no matter what either of us do. If people walk over you, it's time to rise up and take an honest stand for yourself, not take your life for fuckheads who hardly matter. If your family is worth your time, you're loved by everyone back home and by whatever sincere friends you have made. I'm sure there's a nice dinner waiting for you on the table right now, you know?"

A fresh tear slipped down her face, but she cracked that half smile he'd been hoping to catch. "I'm hungry."

The two embraced briefly, her rightmost hand freeing her curly hair from the ironically colored band before she slipped it onto her wrist and gave him a sad smile before she seemed to disappear. He decided against going home, opting instead to sleep in the city park in a tree branch that practically had the shape of his body smoothed into it from all the times before. He found himself staying at college longer than usual to be with his friends, and when he got to the roof, he found himself relieved to find another hesitant potential jumper so he could talk them down.

Day after day, Alexander would go to the roof, meeting someone knew and listening before persuading them to turn away. He grew more and more weighted by his problems at home simultaneously, and as he struggled to not be murdered or arrested, he found himself longing for someone to do the same reach out for him as he'd done to the people whose lives he'd saved without ever learning their names. His pain grew and grew, and eventually when he came to the roof, he was all but determined to simply jump with whoever was up top before he saw her, a girl with long black hair and a light blue cardigan, standing completely on the unsafe side of the railing, something nobody who wanted to hesitate would dare do.

"H-hey-!" He called as he'd done time and time again, but the rest of his mantra died in his throat as she refused to even turn.

"I just want to stop the scars that grow every time that I go home," she said in a voice nearly a whisper. "My family loves me but they have no idea; what can anyone do when I'm trapped legally by a man who makes me do things I'd never want to? Nobody can protect me from him without getting hurt, and every time I've tried to leave or defend myself, it only grows worse. That's why I came up here instead…Nobody can get me if I get myself first."

This girl, a beautiful woman who didn't appear much older than he, was poised in the face of her own demise. Her pain echoed his own, and despite all he'd done for others so different than himself, he'd never deterred himself from leaping at the first honest chance he had. As her fingers began to slip away from the railing, he found he'd for once bitten off more than he could chew, and he even still he couldn't bear to see her fall away with a pitiful expression he could see as clearly as he'd seen in his own mirror.

Alex stood with his arms around her seemingly in an instant, feeling intimately as her breath hitched in her throat and her racing heart thumped wildly through her shirt. "Hey, don't do it, please."

What more could he do? The nineteen year old help this position until her posture relaxed, and for a moment he dreaded she'd simply dive down rather than jump. Instead she sat back onto the railing, turning to him and stepping down in mind to his close location. When she finally looked up, her brown eyes were plagued with sorrow as she offered a small smile.

"I guess today is just not my day," she whispered, shrugging off her pastel cardigan and draping over his still trembling frame before disappearing down the staircase.

That night, he had to run from his drunken abusers to avoid being slaughtered by a cast iron skillet and hide from the cops when a concerned neighbor called them. Despite his home being empty, he decided to sleep on the rooftop he intended to depart life from, his body brought warmth by a quilt he bought downtown before coming up and his belly full with all the food he'd bought to indulge himself for one last meal. When the morning came, nobody had come yet to contemplate the end, so he resolved as he tied back his newly braided in the second girl's bright yellow ponytail holder that today was the day. As he went to the familiar railing, he pulled the last girl's light blue cardigan on before climbing on top of the barrier.

I'm going to jump now and finally be free.

The wind against his face came and went in a split second, His arms were held back tightly as the elbows, and he found himself nearly hauled back over the guard rails before feeling a pair of arms wrapping around him from the chest to secure him. As he stared down at the bustling, unaware city, he realized there were at least three pairs of hands on him, and they were the only thing between he and the death he'd be longing for sorely.

"Hey," a familiar voice murmured in his left ear.

Another familiar voice agreed just as softly, "Don't do it."

The last voice, the same one from the day before, agreed from behind his head. "Please."

"I have nothing to go back to," he said dryly, his voice cracking with the effort to not break down in front of three women who'd he saved from this very fate. "Let me go. Save someone more worthy of the effort."

"You saved our lives!" The second voice exclaimed, and the next thing he knew, he was on his feet and surrounded by them like a protective barrier between he and himself.

"You never got our names," the first voice, which belonged to the girl with hair braided on top of her head elegantly now in buns, noted as she took his shaking hands. "My name is Angelica Schuyler."

"I'm Peggy Schuyler!" The second voice, which belonged to the girl with her fluffy hair in another brightly colored ponytail holder and a warm smile, chirped.

"My name is Elizabeth Schuyler," the last voice, which belonged to the girl oh so much like himself, said with a small smile. "Please, call me Eliza."

He looked at all three of stunning sisters, the ones who he couldn't imagine lifeless on the ground, and it was all he could do not to dissolve as he said. "Alexander Hamilton."

Then he dissolve, wracked with sobs and desperate hugs for all of them, and they hugged him and reassured him as they escorted him to the world waking up below. Though it took time, he was soon living in their expansive estate with his own room while his biological family finally got arrested and squared away by the law, and the four of them got along and had more adventures than he could imagine he'd have. None of them ever talked about the days they each almost took their lives, but they didn't have it. They were all each other's reason to stay alive and rescue each day from that fateful on.

As a matter of fact, Alexander could now resolve with certainty after a little time and a lot of love he was finally using his days to be happy.


	10. A Fit of Passion (Thomgelica)

**Author Notes:** This one shot is requested by the lovely guest reviewer, 'WERK WERK!' Thank you so much for asking for this, as I had a lot of fun making it and I love this ship with a passion!

Trigger Warnings: Graphic depiction of an anxiety attack and self hatred.

* * *

Angelica found herself to be absent the day of October 3rd. She was in school physically, of course; she sang beautifully in the most elite choir in their entire state, she did her school work and handed in assignments, she even chuckled along with her beloved sisters and their mutual friends during lunch time. Despite all of these activities she participated in, she found her mind to be in a distant place, one much more sinister and plagued with so much pain that she kept in at arm's length while simultaneously fighting to keep her head above the dark waters of her mind. To her loved ones, she seemed a bit more quiet than usual and were told she was simply considering a future project for one of her clubs that she was the president of, but the reality of the situation grew heavier with each passing hour.

Getting accepting in one of the top three schools in the nation was no small feat; she rationally understood that. Internally, she was struggling with how she'd keep her GPA well above the 4.0 mark to ensure her options were as option as her forms said they were. If she lost her admittance and didn't hit the ground running with college next year, she had no idea how she'd manage to keep up. She wanted to do so much with her life, and every single person who knew her name expected just as much. Her father had made it very clear he would not pay the tuition for anything less than Ivy League and that her younger siblings were going to made to suffer if she fell short as a 'deadbeat' or 'average', so she continued to do her usual above average performance despite all the panic pooling like rocks at the bottom of her stomach.

She told herself it was her fault she felt this way and that she deserved to wish death or misfortune upon her life. She was the one who got a 'B' on that midterm and still had no idea what she could do to make up for it. She was the one who could've and should've studied a little longer, not let her beloved Eliza and Peggy convince her to take a break and spend a selfish night on the town with them and friends. She could've stuck to what she knew and deviated only when she was safely on top, and yet she'd failed and now had fears that climbed over her head rapidly that this would cost her the valedictorian spot she'd fought so hard for.

"Miss Angelica?" One of the elementary aged students asked as she sat in the after school study session for youngsters that she helped run. "My mama said you were going to leave next year and go to cool-egg."

"College," she correctly with a patient, albeit frayed, smile.

"She said you were so smart, you were gonna go to Harvard!"

"Well, I've actually only heard back from Brown so far," she replied with a strained smile. "I'll still be getting it all paid for. Now, how about we get started on this book?"

"Brown?" The child repeated as he pulled out his reading. "That doesn't sound as cool as Harvard."

It wasn't as cool as Harvard. As a matter of fact, one might argue that was overall worse, and that it made no sense for her to perform so poorly that she wouldn't be admitted at the very top. If a seven year old thought it, her father would say the same and take it out on her, and she'd suffer more than she figured she could ever inflict upon herself.

She didn't really feel herself excusing herself and passing the student off to another one of the workers. As she walked toward the bathrooms, she hardly registered her legs moving underneath her or the way her breath hitched with every other rapid step. The more she travelled the further the stalls felt, and her biting her tongue to avoid crying out was enough to send her fumbling into the nearest vacant classroom. As she pushed her way past the desks and to the back of the room, she let out a harsh sob that felt so disconnected from herself that she rammed her head against the wall just to feel something, to snap her back into reality. The force of the blunt trauma had her sinking down into a small ball, harsh cries clawing out of her throat and sending tears pouring down her face, into her mouth, peppering her shirt and knees with the salty liquid.

You're alone, you pathetic freak. You're alone and you deserve it you deserve it you deserve it you fucking freak, you weak little bitch fucking at school. What are you, five? Weak stupid bitch weak stupid bitch you'll never be good enough never never never you're too stupid you fucking idiot why the fuck are you crying pathetic pathetic PATHETIC-

The lights were off and yet it felt too bright. She grabbed her hair from the ponytail she'd forced it into before, yanking and muffling her sobs that bordered on shrieking. She would never be good enough, no matter how hard she tried, so why did she try? She would be better off disappearing, far away from a father whose compassion died with her mother and bringing peace upon a household of innocent little siblings.

"Hello?"

Someone had entered her sphere of despair. She immediately bit down into the fabric of her shirt, desperately trying to stop the hysteria long enough to get the foreign voice's host to exit the classroom.

Look at you, you pathetic crybaby bitch. The teacher will think you're insane have you lost your damn mind? Wow stop crying stop crying damnit you pathetic little fuck can you shut up for three seconds you fucking freak you stupid, stupid bitch.

A small sob erupted as the shadowy figure stepped closer; she was caught in all of her lost glory, her walls crumbling as she laid in the rubble of a life she tried so desperately to build for herself and for those she loved. Before she could try to stand and make up an excuse about why she was hysterically weeping into herself in a random classroom, the figure knelt down in front of her and pulled her hands away from her mouth. As they were removed, she realized she'd bitten into so hard and excessively they'd begun to bleed around her cuticles and nail beds.

"Angelica?" The voice inquired, and with a sinking feeling she realized she knew exactly who this male was.

"Jefferson," she whispered, voice hoarse from the sobbing that she couldn't seem to cease despite all her best efforts. "If you're here to kick me while I'm down, go ahead. I've got nothing else to fucking lose."

"Jesus, darlin', what kind of man do you take me for?" He mused, sitting back onto his posterior entirely and keeping her hands in his own despite her subconscious attempts to return knowing on them. "Hey, hey. I don't know what's going on, but you gotta calm down."

Calm down calm down fucking calm down you're making a scene you'll never be respected in the Debate Team now you're a sorry excuse of a president what fucking fool put you in charge he's an adult you're a sniffling child fucking calm down CALM DOWN damnit!

"Angie…" The Virginian softly said, his voice smooth as silk in contrast to his usual sassy remarks and flirtatious and condescending tone. "Angie, please. Can you tell me five things you can feel?"

Fucking five things you- wait, what?

"W-what?" She whispered aloud, her gaze still unable to meet his.

A light was suddenly shining down, one that showed the man before her more clearly. His hair, a luscious and usually free Afro, was now pulled into a braid that laid across his head from ear to ear while the rest was in a puffy bun. His brown eyes were wide and concerned, two things she'd never seen front her confident classmate and main competition for the valedictorian spot, and that alone was nearly enough to send her back into her usual confidence demeanor.

"Can you tell me five things you can feel?" He repeated quietly requested, and she realized his large, cool hands were on either side of her face as her tears freely dripped down like rainfall.

She sniffled involuntarily and became aware of how close they were, how small she must look, and how he seemed too genuine to pass up in such a vulnerable position. "I…I feel…I feel the carpet underneath me, a-and your hands. I can feel my clothes…The storage unit on my back…A-and my hair sticking to my face."

"Very good, doll," he praised, and the fear that he was only acting compassionate to destroy her later overcame her like a plastic sack underneath water."Now, how about four things you can see?"

"I…" She scooted back instinctually, not relinquishing his touch from her despite trying to sit up a little straighter to salvage some dignity subconsciously. "I-I see…I see a…a lamp on. I see…I see the light in from under the door. I see m-my hands…I…I!"

"One more, darlin," he prompted so gently, she nearly melted out of gratitude despite herself.

"…I see…I was only looking at your hair before?" She voiced hesitantly, his patient nod encouraging her to continue. "B-but…but now I see your eyes. They're big, and brown but hazel in the direct light. They're v-very nice."

"Why thank you, sugarplum," he responded with a rare non-malicious chuckle. "Now I'm gonna need three things you can hear."

"Your voice," she murmured hoarsely, all the fatigue and strain she'd brought on herself finally catching up while he cracked a smirk at her smart comment. "M…my voice. People going by the door outside."

"Excellent," he soothed as he used his thumbs to brush her curls free from her messy face. "Can you tell me two things you can taste?"

Lunch still lingered on her taste buds despite it being the afternoon, and by the way he kept his face in close proximity, she feared this was a poorly done sexual advance when she was at her most fragile. She immediately shoved him back, her hands shaking as she skittered away from his grasp. He went back with a small grunt and, much to her relief and shock, didn't make a cruel comment about how primal she was acting or even try to get back up.

"Well, sugar?" He simply said.

"…Chicken," she mumbled, a feeling of bashfulness settling when she realized her fears had been misguided. "And flavored chips."

"Sounds delicious, pumpkin. All there is left to tell me once thing you can smell."

She tried to take a whiff of the air, and yet her nose seemed to be running to get anything that wasn't strong. Face flush with more shame (if it were possible at this point), she got to her feet and stumbled over desks until she got to the box of Kleenex on the teacher's desk. Thomas followed a respectful distance, his eyes never seeming to leave as she cleaned up somewhat and cleared her airway.

"I don't smell anything," she muttered disappointedly.

Instead of speaking, the fellow senior wrapped his arms around her, encasing her with warmth and a perfume that smelled flowery and lavender. "How about now?"

"Y-your cologne," she admitted in a shaky squeak.

"You've got it, honey." He pulled away only slightly now, his expression still soft against the background-centric harsh lamp light. "Look, I know we fight like it's our damn jobs, but nobody deserves to be crying alone in Mister Benton's science classroom. We can leave that for the people we don't think twice about or some shit, don't you think?"

"Well, Thomas, I'm surprised you care whether I live or die," she professed with a light chuckle that crumpled when she realized she couldn't bear to meet his gaze. "I can't imagine what you must think about me now. I hope you know this does not change my level of intellect, nor how I have grown to enjoy our little debates. This was…this was simply a, well, a…"

"A panic attack," he finished while stepping back, and the ghost of his touch left her longing for it once more when she still felt so small. "I get them all the time. That's why I wear this lavender stuff; helps soothe the nerves because science and shit. Nobody ever said being on the top was easy, sweetie, but that makes us all the more badass when we crumple. I don't expect you'll be dropping the ball regardless, so don't worry about it. It can be our little secret; right, angel?"

He'd nearly gotten out of the door before she went to his side, her hands and arms looping around his dominant one as though she'd done it all her life. In the hallway light, she finally noticed how his flannel shirt was flattering and his jeans were pleasantly tight, and how a blush lingered on his dark cheeks despite claiming to not be affected by this encounter.

"Oh please, Thomas," she finally managed with a genuine smile of her own. "At least let me walk you to your car for your troubles. I have no intention of dropping our earlier argument about women's reproductive rights, I do hope you know, and now you're in an excellent place to speak of it."

He smiled once more and leaned closer so their sides touched more intimately. "I wouldn't dream of it, baby."


	11. By Herself (Peggy-centric)

**Author Notes:** VERY SERIOUS TRIGGER WARNING FOR ATTEMPTED RAPE AND DEPICTION OF GRAPHIC ANXIETY ATTACK! I love the musical Be More Chill and Michael in the Bathroom just as much as anyone else, but PLEASE DO NOT PUT YOURSELF AT RISK! This chapter is very, very mature, and covers some heavy topics concerning mental illness and as I said, an attempted rape. Please be safe.

This was requested by the lovely Arya_Chan, my lovely small bean! Thank you for such an awesome idea, I hope I did it justice!

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"Go to the Halloween party, they said," the youngest Schuyler sister grumbled to herself as she tried desperately to look attractive enough for someone to look at, to notice even for a moment. "It will be _fun_ , they said."

All around her the night was alive. People were drinking and making out, crawling over one another and grinding against the themed music. The scent of smoke and weed filled the air so heavily she could gag, and where were the people she'd come with? Well, she knew for a fact one was in a bedroom having some exhilarating sex with her longtime boyfriend, one Thomas Jefferson, and she was genuinely happy they were so perfect and in love. After all, they were far more intellectual than the usual 'most popular boy and girl' pair, and their friendly debates and passionate outlook on life kept them both more and more alive the deeper they fell for each other. The other was with her boyfriend and their friend group, the one so tight knit and full of love that was as unintentionally isolated as it was welcoming. No matter how hard she'd tried, the junior just couldn't worm her way into their pact, and had given up trying the week of this much hyped event.

So where was she instead? Hanging by the snack table, trying her best to be important. She knew upfront she was only let in because of beloved siblings and that she didn't know anyone outside of their first names or classes/clubs, but she'd still somehow persuaded herself it was better than spending another night watching movie with her younger siblings and parents. Of course she loved her family more than anything, but when it was all the had to offer when she was supposed to remarkable enough to skip a grade to be with her Eliza, it just got depressing.

"Hello there," a smooth voice drawled, and she was surprised to see a senior, the infamous James Reynolds, right in front of her. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a crowded fuck house like this? It sure ain't becoming of someone so pretty."

"Are you implying that only ugly girls come here?" She demanded, a light ignited in her at the thought of the known sleaze who'd cheated his way into the lowest ranking of the class just so he could graduate. "And for the record, this is hardly a 'fuck house'. James Monroe only invites the best of the best to his mansion, which is a lot more to his name that you."

"Oh sure, that's what that cock sucker wants you to think," he drawled and leaned closer despite her attempts to step away from him. "Really he's no different than me; the difference is that he's a pretty boy who the teachers have no problem letting into the top ten percentile, and I'm just not white or charming enough to get in with a bunch of crusty old hags and closeted pedophiles. Surely someone as supposedly smart as yourself can understand that."

His breath reeked of old booze and had no traces of mint or toothpaste. She used her small frame to push his slender figure, which was now all but pinning her to the snack table by position, and stepped to the side with intentions to lose him in the chaos of the party. Much to her horror and disgusted shock, he simply grabbed her strands harshly and stuck a wad, which was now so eloquently covered in ranch, into his disgusting mouth.

"You look so much like that bitch I used to date…" He drawled, his grip tightening on her mane as he started forcibly grabbing her closer. "How about I'll show your pretty little virgin ass what it means to have hate sex? I could do everything I want to you, and nobody would bat an eyelid…"

"Let go!" She screamed, twisting and yanking despite the throbbing it brought to her already tender head as he began to yank her unforgivably up the first staircase. "LET GO! I'll call the police, I swear-!"

Nobody seemed to hear her over the bass that shook the walls and noise that her cries blended into. She was hauled all the way up three flights of stairs, her attempts useless to the point she even tried going ragdoll; he rewarded her effort with a hard slap to the face that made her tear up and blood form in her mouth. Through the haze of pain and fear that made her senses sharp, she saw someone step out of the door he'd just flung open.

"Reynolds?!" She heard a voice snap, and at once his grip was gone and very clearly enraged Maria Lewis was chasing her piece of shit ex down the hallway wielding two sharply pointed heels. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

"Are you okay?" A new voice asked as the arms of its owner helped the young junior up, but seeing another tall, lean man was enough to send her skittering back despite how he immediately backed up with a sincerely apologetic expression on his face. "I'm sorry, I swear that man- if you can even call him that- will never look at you again. I'll be hauling his ass to the police station once my lady gets done beating the shit out of him."

"Th-thank you both," she stammered weakly, and she wondered if he could hear over the party that persisted on in the lower floors that still vibrated the walls and floor. "I…I have to go."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us? Maria will drive separately, and you could get your witness testimony in…" He extended a kind hand in her direction as he spoke, and had she not been near what would've undoubtedly been a violent rape, she knew she'd normally take it rather than shrink away. "I promise we'll take care of you. Nothing bad is going to happen anymore tonight; just friendship and comfort. I promise, Patty."

Patty. This kind stranger didn't even know her name, but she'd be willing to bet money he'd know her sisters. She felt her body tremble even more violently as she shook her head, her feet feeling like lead and her heart hammering painfully as she raced to the sixth, top floor of the expansive house. The pictures of family and joy across the hallway walls blurred as she choked back terrible, pained sobs, her mind still reeling as she finally found a room with an open door and fleeing inside without another thought. As she locked it shakily and finally sank to the cool flooring, she realized she'd found herself in a very large bathroom, and that there was another door that connected to another room at the other end. Though she was still catching her breath, she scrambled over and forced it shut with a sharp yank before locking it frantically. Despite it not being too much, the first wave of relief of the evening came when she realized nobody was on the other side, at least not yet, and that she could finally be alone.

"I am hanging in the bathroom, at the biggest party of the fall…" She whispered as she stared at the barrier between her and an empty bedroom. "I could stay right here, or disappear…And Hell, nobody'd even notice at all."

The music switched to a new song, one that was at a groovy, catchy tempo that made the crowd far below cheer in approval. She pressed her back to the door and brought her knees to her chest, her mind racing as she tried desperately to avoid crying over someone as creepy, abusive and stupid as James Reynolds. Maria and the stranger had no doubt saved her by the miracle of coincidence, and yet she still couldn't bring herself to go back despite finally catching her breath. Either the couple would turn him in like the man said or they'd go on about their night, and she imagined she'd still be hiding away until one of her siblings finally announced they were ready to leave (and given how late these events went, she wouldn't be surprised if she wound up spending the night).

"Hello?" Someone was banging on the front door, scaring her into curling tighter on herself out of pure instinct and fear. "Some of us have to pee!"

There were multiple bathrooms in such a huge estate, and she'd just gotten here with no intent to leave, so she simply called out, "I…I'm having my period!"

"…Take your time, honey," the voice replied more kindly.

Great. I'm a weirdo in the bathroom cause my sisters kind of left me alone, she mused self depreciatingly as she continued to huddle as small as was physically able. And yet I'd rather fake pee than stand awkwardly and pretend that I am fine on my own.

When she was in their home, she was never the awkward, odd one out loser that she was socially. She was the older but closest in age sister to their brothers and sisters, or the last born Irish triplet to the two people she'd idolized and followed trustingly since she was very small. If either of them knew what she'd just been through, she had no doubt in her mind that there would likely be a homicide and a lot of bail money paid to get them both out of jail for both murdering someone and expertly hiding the body. The thought of her siblings protecting her was enough to get her to summon her cell phone, but she almost immediately set it on the sink counter instead; they were having too much for her to cloud their evening with such misery. Besides, she figured she was asking for it by being a pretty wallflower, and that she looked like a slut just waiting for attention despite her baggy, childlike costume and makeup that was meant to make her look even younger than she was.

Everything feels find, when I'm the third to their pair…She stood up shakily and went to the mirror, inspecting her far from perfect frame that was poorly concealed by now wrinkled and grime stained clothes. Though the fault is mine, there's no reason for anybody to care. I'm just…Peggy in the bathroom. Peggy in the bathroom at a party.

When her sisters implored her to come to this event, they'd decided to come as the Powerpuff Girls, as they themselves were practically triplets and were all self-proclaimed badasses, but her beloved elder siblings had gone much shorter in their snug dresses and had thigh highs and more adorable yet attractive accessories than her, who'd bought the Buttercup dress online for authenticity and worn white leggings, flats instead of heels, and even straightened her hair before realizing she'd looked more childish than attractive. Her only redeeming piece were the dark green fingerless gloves she'd found in the clearance section of one of her more obscure online shopping sites, and even they had a reason to be called out of date. Peggy yanked off the gloves angrily now, throwing the leggings and bag on top of them by the sink before shimmying back into her shorts with another weak cry erupting from within her. Next she tried straightening out her green dress insecurely before sighing and pulling it over her head, leaving her standing a lime green tank top and the short black shorts as she tossed the baggy fabric over the curtain rod.

"I don't even know how long it's been," she murmured, hardly able to think with the trembling foundation all around her. "How long has 'and Peggy' been in the bathroom, Peggy been in the bathroom at a party?

Another knock- or maybe it was just a bang from somewhere on the floor, sounded. It was sharp enough to make her jump and send a surge of anger and resentment outward, leaving her to yell, "NO, YOU CAN'T COME IN!"

She resolved she'd just wait it all out here after all, no matter how long it took to leave. After all, the bathtub looked big enough to sleep in, and she still had her small backpack/purse to use as a cushion if the storage closet by the front end of the tub didn't have any spare linens or pillows inside. (And even if there was a bedroom literary right there, she wasn't going to risk pissing anyone else off by sleeping there or being found by another man looking for someone 'easy'.) The sixteen year old sat on the edge of the bathtub and began picking at the grout forming, grief from the trauma continuing the bubble over the more she fought tears and dug her nails into the grime to distract herself.

That's right, Maria's boyfriend. I'm just Peggy, who you don't know, Peggy flying solo, Peggy in the BATHROOM by herself. All by herself…

Her sisters were having the time of their lives if they hadn't even checked in on her. She felt progressively filthier from being dragged, yanked and touched by the lowlife until she finally switched on the shower and seized the fresh towels from their storage area.

I'm hiding here because he's out there, unable to move on from some history…She reminisced bitterly as she scrubbed at her skin and rubbed her ranch and salvia stained hair until she worried she'd break it. Memories get replaced and I made myself erased by fighting for my dignity.

As she switched off the shower, she heard a drunk girl singing along very loudly to Whitney. The image of someone like that made her chuckle before it faded like a light that he'd been blasted with a hose; who was she to judge for someone making a lot of laughable mistakes? At least the poor lady was having fun while she was 'Patty' in the bathroom, just Peggy in the bathroom at a party regretting that she hadn't had at least a beer. Her eyes finally began to leak as she stepped onto the bath mat and toweled off quickly, all but diving back into her clothes just in case someone got in somehow and shoving the towel in the hamper.

"Look, calm down," she told herself weakly despite not believing a word of her own reassurance. "Everything is going to be alright. You can take as long as you need until your face is dry, and if worse comes to worse, you can just blame it on weed or something in your eyes. Why wouldn't they believed you? You're just Peggy, who they don't know, 'Patty' flying solo, PEGGY in a bathroom by herself!"

She used a smaller, stained towel to wipe away almost all of the water from bathing before sitting in the bathtub with her yellow headphones pulled over her drying curls. She'd fallen asleep listening to her familiar showtunes before she was jolted awake by the sound of banging outside, making her heartrate skyrocket.

 _Knock, knock, knock, knock._

People would start to complain if she stayed there and somehow every other facility was full. She barely had time to sit up before it came again, louder and harsher this time.

 _Knock, knock, knock, knock!_

"Calm down!" She called resentfully. "I'll be out soon-"

 _KNOCK, knock, KNOCK, knock!_

It really sucked that was she was in a mansion full of people all alone.

 _Knock, knock, KNOCK! KNOCK!_

This was a teenage battlezone against herself. Her head was exploding with all the so, so loud sounds, her vision growing hazy as she somehow stumbled over the tub and onto the floor in a shaking mess.

 _CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!_

Her biggest mistake was showing up. She tried rolling onto her knees to rise up to her feet, but all the noise made her bury her face partially into her lap and choke down a scream of pain mixed with terror.

 _BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!_

It felt like her mind was disconnected from her body as she bit down on her lip, splashing cold water from the sink that was soothing against the harsh rubbing and burning water earlier.

 _SPLASH! SPLASH ! Splash, splash…_

Feeling more confident about skittering past whoever was on the other side, Peggy went to open up the other door until she realized with a start that didn't hear knocking anymore. Once again she felt like a ghost of her own body as she walked back to the sink, twitching on the water and rubbing the remnants of sleep and dried makeup residue soothingly. As she bent over with her figure still trembling like a leaf, she couldn't help but yearn to be home with those she loved, to feel like she belonged somewhere other than the shadows and harsh pangs of irrelevancy. When the water stream ended this time, she was forced to look at her splotchy, red face, her tangled and wild hair, and the marks and bruises from being handled and punished so roughly, and there was denying where she was and what had happened.

Any more self-deprecation was cut off by her sobs erupting from her small frame. She allowed herself to sink to the floor, her cries unashamed and uncensored in rage, misery, fear and overall loathing for who'd done such unspeakable things to her. As she finally calmed down and the much needed waves of release and endorphins washed over her, she realized that the music had been turned down considerably and that the songs were much calmer and carefree in nature; the event was finally winding down as people passed out, went home or just fell asleep.

"I'm at a party," she reminded herself with a weak laugh of disbelief. "Is there a sadder site than…? Mmm, mmhhmm-mm…at a party? This is a heinous night."

She wiped her tears gently as she spoke, standing up and pulling her curls over to be quickly untangled with the hairbrush in the top drawer before tying them up into a cute, thick bun on her head. In a brief moment of clarity, she thought to tidy up where she'd been dwelling for an indescribable amount of time while silently thanking whoever furnished and used this- probably the Monroe parents- for inadvertently letting her take care of herself.

"God, I wish I'd stayed at home, with family and warm…" She whispered to herself, casting a glance to the clearly broken up girl in the mirror. "Or…or maybe offed myself instead, like I was never born."

The pain, insecurity and humor in all of it hit her at once, verbalized as she put folded her costume and pulled her shoes off into her back. "Doesn't even know? I'm just Peggy, whose a loner, so she must be a stoner! Drives a PT Cruiser, GOD she's such a loser! Peggy flying solo, who you all think that you know, Peggy in the bathroom by herself!"

She zipped her bag, endorphins making her feel a little delusional and giddy. The music really was fun and easy to dance or clap to, which she did despite the trauma finally settling inside her heart for the evening.

"All by herself!" She sang along softly, giggling at her own antics lightly and rubbing her eyes. "All by herseeeee-eee-eeeeeeeelf!"

The sixteen year old gently undid the lock to the front door and stepped into the still vacant bedroom, locking it from the new side and bolting herself in the bedroom from its entrance. The bed was soft and invitingly warm as she crawled in, at last ditching her bra and sorrow as she stared up into the comforting darkness.

"All you all know about me is my last name…" She murmured as sleep wrapped around her soothingly. "Awesome party, I'm so glad I came."


	12. Dancing Girls Fairytale AU Part 1

**Author Notes:** Hello, my loves! This one shot was a request spawned by Lele426, whose lovely review made me smile uncontrollably because they are the sweetest person! I absolutely LOVED writing this request, as it was one of the most unique concepts I've ever read and never been able to craft until now. I do warn you and everyone else that this is seriously twisted/dark/angsty, as I was told in the request it would okay to make it so, and though I'd usually go for fluff instead, I had a lot of fun doing it this way instead. I hope this is everything you were hoping for and more, and without any further ado, please enjoy!

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 ** _The Dancing Sisters Fairytale AU, Pt. 1: The Dancing Song_**

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If you were to ask any man, the role of a woman was remarkably easy; all she had to do was be wed before she was out of the prime age of bearing children and she'd be set exactly what she'd been reared to do all her life. Even if it were somewhat uncommon, even older women could wed and be well loved and respected, and a very rare few never bonded within a union while still living prosperous lives filled with joy. Marriage grew younger and younger the classier a family was, of course; it was a massive achievement to send a girl off before she were eighteen, and such was the case with the eldest Schuyler child. Not once in the chaos of exchanging letters and arrangement with the groom's family did a soul ask the woman what she thought despite giving the young lord complete control over who'd he choose and where they'd rule together, but they at least let her plan the wedding of her dreams and gave her things he sent her in the months leading up to her journey.

Angelica supposed she'd say she was happy, or at the very least content with the way her life was turning out. The Schuyler family ruled expansive estate with honor, pride and fairness that made their people prosperous and devout, and she was sure she'd be wed into another prosperous family somewhere within their state until the suitors lunged for her the second she became fifteen. Most of them were older men, ones that she'd very clearly refused and raised fits over the concept of being in the same bed with, but George King was different. He was youthful with bright blonde hair and stunning eyes, ones she'd been told countless times that not even the elaborate paintings did justice to, and a bit deranged but overall quite entertaining sense of humor. He was a far better option than a social downgrade or her other potential husbands, and the second she realized her mother's approval, she essentially leapt into his extended hand.

Now that she was on the ship, all of her lovely things and entire life surrounding her spacious cabin like it ought to be, she felt empty. At first she'd convinced herself it was she missed her family and her people, but the more she'd thought on it, the more she realized she had no interest in marrying the King. He would be a proper gentleman and a man to bring her much promised wealth, joy and family to balance out the limited visits with those she'd grown up with, but he was still not someone she supposed she yet loved. Considering how her parents were also an arranged marriage, she supposed she had no reason to believe she'd be unhappy, but she'd be the potential of false 'I love yous' in the haunted eyes of countless cousins and even more couples who bore fussy, spoiled or neglected offspring who crumpled under the weight of being royalty when it was thrust upon them. Good people became menaces, dangerous criminals and villains for less, and despite all these inhibitions that finally bubbled to the surface upon getting away from her controlling mother and excitable staff, she raced ever steadily toward a new land with new subjects who she'd be bound to from the moment she'd say 'I do'.

Angelica Schuyler essentially didn't, but there was no other choice now; there never really was, anyway.

Her racing thoughts finally drove her to sit up in her bed and grab her favorite robe in order to go get some fresh air. Though most princesses would never dress like 'commoners', she still slipped on the pale yellow shorts her beloved Peggy gifted her before she departed underneath her pastel pink nightgown just in case the wind was prominent on the deck and clipped the baby blue hairpin her beloved Eliza handmade into her ponytail bound curls. As she creaked open her cabin door, she half expected a servant to ask what she needed or a maid to usher her back to bed, but much to her pleasure nobody seemed to awake to mind.

"Sorrow she knew, with misery she danced, why won't she come out and let me enchant?"

A hauntingly beautiful voice mixed in with the night air as she opened the door to step out on the deck. Instead of the harsh night wind that send her clothes whipping around her, she found herself feeling warm and the wood to be pleasantly well lit to guide her into the darkness. Bewildered, she took a tentative step further and strained to hear that unfamiliar voice before it washed over her like a warm fire enveloping formerly chilled skin in immediate realize.

"Her eyes are brown, flecked with marigold, within a trembling body lies an aching soul~" The voice sang, seeming to beckon her to continue onto the deck despite the logic of the situation nagging in the back of her mind.

"Who's there?" She whispered huskily, voice weighed down with fatigue and curiosity, but she was greeted with a rush of energy as the mysterious and unseen singer replied.

"Hush, doll, hush, I know your pain," the voice soothed more clearly. "Your deepest desires are the beginnings of my gain."

"Where are you?" She demanded more boldly, looking around and watching in astonishment as the figures of her family began to decorate the now fully lit and well-made deck area that sparkled as though it were brand new.

"These are those for which you pray, their faces plastered mentally every day. See how they frolic, they dance and play; won't you join them, sugar, don't listen to dismay~"

She felt as light as air as she walked to her sisters, curtsying formally and giggling when they looped their arms around her to spin around her in circles while she spun the opposite way with her gown in hand. When they moved to do the same to their younger siblings, she found herself no longer wearing her night clothes, but instead a beautiful dress speckled with gold and dyed a gorgeous pink that fit her in all the places to make her feel sexy and stunning. For what felt like only minutes she danced around the outdoor ballroom, kissing her family's cheeks and laughing with her Irish triplets as the voice sweetly orchestrated his lovely song.

"The night is young, the sun can't shine like your face," the singer crooned so endearingly she giggled like a girl. "Won't you come dance with me? It's your proper place."

Finally, she saw who was calling such gracious and gorgeous words. It was a man, far more scantily dressed than she'd ever seen anyone, but it only added to her warm feelings of enhancement despite how she blushed. His hair was decorated with shells and bountiful strands of golds, his eyes shining black with sparkling silver dots like the stars themselves, and his skin was a deep brown that looked like it was melted from the most delectable chocolate. He smiled to her, blowing her a kiss, before standing up and revealing his bare, muscled chest along with his only clothing being handmade, white cloth that reminded her of something a heated sailor might be clad in as he fished with his hands.

"Up the stairs now. Please carefully tread," he beckoned, and she found a couple of golden shining steps instead of the railing would've been. "It's been too long, mon amour, for someone to be in my arms again."

"But what about the water? What if I fall in?" The logic had gone from nagging to a screeching warning like a harsh slap to a face, but when he opened his smooth and plump lips, it was banished away entirely by feelings of safety, trust and warmth.

"Come to me, darling, come near to my heart," he serenaded as his hands extended out fully to take her own, which she lifted out now in a entranced-like manor. "Touch me intimately, my sugarplum, we shall never be apart."

The stairs felt cold and saturated with salt water for only a second before they felt like carpet beneath her bare feet. When she looked back, her family was smiling, and the light from this magical ballroom seemed to extend out and be projected around her perfect suitor. She stepped up and over, stumbling briefly, and suddenly an entirely different picture was brought before her as her knee was harshly scraped to bring blood to the surface.

A storm was raging above and droplets of rain made seeing hard, but there was no missing the raging ocean below. The familiar voice of the captain was screaming for her, begging her to come back 'before the heart swallowed her', and when she looked back, she found herself barely clinging to an algae ridden railing on the side that could easily tip her into unforgiving ocean beneath. She was slipping before she registered it, and she began to scream in horror before the scene was gone and she'd somehow spun back around to her suitor again.

"Come with me, stay asleep~" He crooned, and she felt like melting better when she met his irresistible gaze again. "Come to me, never leave~"

Her hands were gripping something that didn't seem to be there, so instead of question why she'd done such a silly thing in the first place, she let go.

* * *

Being a siren was a lonely business. Of course they had each other, and he loved the couple of males and plentiful females he got to be around constantly and thrive with every single day of his life. Living in the ocean meant never-ending fun and lots of mischief, and Thomas never got tired of giving up the hard life as a ship slave for endless play instead. He'd been one of the rarest humans to leap and not be eaten, tortured or both; he'd accepted the life willingly through his own magical workings, and the others had welcomed him as one of their own due to the sheer excitement and rareness of his 'crime against humanity'.

Angelica had been the most beautiful woman he'd ever met, and initially, he'd wanted to sink his teeth into that flawless flesh of hers. The more he watched her though, she more he realized she was much too pretty to slay or make cry, so he crafted a new tune just for her that would compel her to join him forever and forever. He'd be amused, watching her put on a show of foolish delusion for her and his fellow sirens as she spun and giggling and danced around a soaking, frigid deck that would no doubt make her miserable and send her fleeing had she not been under his spell. At last he got tired of the performance he orchestrated her and called for her easily to climb over the only thing separating him and his prize, and she'd broken his charm for just a few dangerous moment. Seeing the fear in her eyes broke his heart, and when she finally leapt into the churning water, he resolved he'd never see such uncertainty again.

Now she was sitting at his side, her legs replaced by a beautiful pastel pink colored tail she'd happily picked herself and her cute expressive mouth permanently enchanted only to make sounds of joy and song. He was starving, and he was happy to begin a traditional song as she giggled bubbly beside him and laid her head on his shoulder.

By all traditional rules of a fairytale, Angelica Schuyler and Thomas Jefferson lived happily ever after, forever.


	13. Dancing Girls Fairytale AU Part 2

**Author Notes:** Hello, my loyal followers and friends! As per the original idea spawned from the incredibly sweet and creative LELE426 written out in the last chapter and the incredibly generous request of THE POWER OF PEGGY! post said chapter, this incredible mini-series has become a threeshot focusing on each of the Schuyler Sisters in this twisted, angsty and hopefully positively-ending threeshot!

Thank you both so, so much for allowing me to continue exploring these characters and world build, and I hope the over two week waiting period will have proved to be well worth. Keep an eye out for the last installment of the 'Dancing Girls' threeshot, and then be prepared to await the release of more fics, both from Lele426's requests, an older request I haven't had the momentum to write for (my deepest apologies), and my own ideas!

* * *

 ** _The Dancing Sisters Fairytale AU, Pt. 2: The Dancing Curse_**

* * *

If you were to ask any residence of the Schuyler's kingdom what life had been like post the sudden and tragic loss of their beloved princess Angelica, they'd describe to you that of mourning, constant high strung emotion, seclusion and horror. No more true was it for the remaining children of the king and queen, all of which had been sealed up tightly within the walls of their massive mansion with only a select few coming in and even less ever venturing out. Any man, woman or child who dared disobey the extensive, mysterious deadlines would be slain on sight, so the halls and rooms previously lit with constantly activity and residents of all classes and kingdoms grew cold and hollow.

Of course, the most prominent people in the entire country still had only so much power, and after ten long months ten year old John and seven year old Phillip Jeremiah fled their home and had never been again, and only their remaining two older sisters had any clue that they were alive and safe within the home of their beloved Aunt Gertrude since the call of freedom was too strong for them to resist. In the three months preceding their sons' outright rebellious fleeing, all face to face contact with the kingdom was halted save for the massive spike in royal guard staff members and increase in technological advances that ensured nobody would have any reason to appear before the royal family.

Quite frankly, it was past the point of being on Peggy's last nerve, so the courtship request coming from across the sea that would set her and her beloved Eliza free had her counting the minutes until the trip.

"Do make it to the islands, my girls," Phillip Schuyler, a once bright and opinionated man softened by sorrow, commanded to his remaining eldest daughters. "Should you catch word of what may have come of Angelica through these months from those who travel further…You know what to do."

"Do not get your hopes, darling," Catherine Schuyler, a once kind and simple woman hardened cruelly by sorrow, replied to her husband before looking to her eldest duo. "See to it you arrive alive at any cost. Others' lives are expendable compared to yours."

"What a horrendous thing to say!" Eliza exclaimed at once, but nevertheless they shared tight hugs and kisses of farewell with their drastically reduced family members before boarding the ship to see them all the way to the Caribbean Islands.

As the vessel sailed toward the stretching horizon, Peggy took special time in inhaling and exhaling the now unfamiliar, yet home-marked, scents of their home. Though it may have been her prison for thirteen, nearly fourteen months, she would miss it until her next visit despite the internal knowledge her only connections would be through letters until she was twenty one and one hundred percent free from her parents' jurisdiction. Sentiments aside, she was no follower and not one to play complacently like her older sisters, and there was not a chance she'd let out slack enough to be yanked back under anyone's control now that she finally had her complete freedom.

"Tell me more about this pen pal of yours, dear sister!" Eliza exclaimed once their kingdom was long behind them across the ocean. "The things you tell our parents are bland to say the least, so please indulge me in the real story."

"Oh God, you're still talking royal!" The seventeen year old groaned immediately while playfully covering her mouth. "I will tell you nothing until you get out of that toxic mindset!"

"It's hardly toxic!" The eighteen year old replied through playful laughter, and at once the two commenced into childlike back-and-forth and chase that she hadn't been able to do for so many years, not since their mother decided they were 'too old for nursery activities'.

They were at sea for almost six complete days before they finally learned the truth about what happened to their beloved oldest sister. It had been her that woke up first, lured awake by the strange singing coming from beyond their spacious cabin walls, and she'd woken up her Betsey before adventuring out to find who was singing in the absolute black of night. Together the two teenagers held hands and huddled together against the whipping wind on the ship deck, and when Peggy caught sight of the seemingly drunk sailor preparing to leap off over the railing, she couldn't even feel her legs underneath her as she rushed to him and pulled him back to safety with reckless abandon.

"H-huh?!" The sailor's eyes were wide and terrified as he looked her in her eyes. "Wh…what are you doing out here at such an hour, Miss? You ought to be safe and warm in your bed by now!"

"And what in the hell were you doing about to go sailing off into the waters?!" She demanded fiercely while helping the clearly shaken gentleman to his feet. "And who was singing-?!"

Before he could reply, another song started up from somewhere in the pitch blackness of night. It sounded beautiful, she supposed, but in a haunting, disturbing way; the notes were all too wild to put a familiar set of words to, and the pitches were too wildly fluctuating for her to relax. She was just looking over to her sibling when she realized that she was dancing along to the tone in a ritualistic-appearing way, her eyes now just as far away as the young sailor's had appeared before.

"Eliza?!" She demanded sharply as she rose to her feet. "What in the hell are you doing?! Elizabeth! Elizabeth Schuyler!"

It seemed her slightly older sister couldn't hear her, or maybe she simply did not care, but she was swaying dangerously back and forth and all around the top of the deck now. All the seventeen year old could do was hope the (admittedly handsome) sailor would be fine as she chased after her sibling, bare feet feeling frozen against the salty, frigid boards below. Every time she got a proper grip on her, the other would dance away with elated laughter rising from her, the kind that seemed terribly inappropriate in the risqué situation.

"ELIZABETH!" Peggy screeched desperately as her beloved elder sister began to climb up and sit over the unstable, soaked railing. "ELIZABETH NO!"

She knew well what was going on now; her only remaining older sibling was being seduced by the group of sirens that were rumored to live around these parts. Regardless, she held on tightly to the last piece of family she still had and planted her feet as firmly as she could to prevent her from falling, and though it wasn't much she deeply appreciated the young sailor she'd managed to save grabbing onto her to assist. It was only a matter of long, tense and desperate members before her Eliza's body relaxed entirely and she was free-falling forward, and Margarita let out an anguished scream as she desperately caught one slippery wrist.

It was only for a moment, but the enchantment broke for just a moment. Elizabeth was staring up at her desperately, screaming and crying as she took in her treacherous surroundings, and then the ship lurched hard and she was swallowed up by the entirety of the water. The youngest Schuyler sister barely had time to let out a desperate shriek before the sailor leapt over the edge, two life buoys over each shoulder, after the now undoubtedly lost young woman.

"Look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now~" A singing voice that was unmistakably identical to her lost eldest sister sang out warmly. "Look around, look around~"

"How dare you! You've taken all I had left and now you mock me?!" Peggy howled at the top of her lungs, gripping the rails long enough to get a good scowl toward the unknown. "You all ought to be slain for your crimes! May you be eaten alive and burned at the stake so you feel every lick of the flame, you fucking bastards!"

The winds picked up speed immediately, no doubt controlled by something more powerful than she could try to comprehend, and the storm-esque waves began violently tossing her back and forth so much she had to hang on as tightly as possible to what she currently had to avoid being flung off like a fly on a person. With all the strength she could muster, she made a mad dash beyond the door she exited from in the few seconds of regular ocean activity before slamming it shut and desperately spreading against the doorframe to avoid her supernatural murder. This all persisted for what felt like hours before everything abruptly stopped, and when she finally summoned the courage to look out of the small port window, she was absolutely shocked to see her eldest sister, very much alive, sitting on the level flooring of the deck with her eyes half-lidded and content.

"Ang…Angelica?" The youngest of the former trio called waterily as she ventured open the door, likely against her better judgement. "Is…is that really you?"

"It is I, my little Peggy," Angelica replied with a warm smile. "I have missed you and Betsey so terribly."

Peggy immediately ran into her arms and collapsed into exhausted sobs of relief, of anger, of confusion and resurfaced grief. For the time she was securely in her sister's familiar arms, she could hardly care if this was a trick or genuine; she had her back for long to say goodbye, and if this meant her death, this was alright way to go. Much to her surprise and intense relief, however, she was not consumed by this immaculate replica of her lost Irish triplet, or even brutally handled. Instead, she was kissed tenderly on the forehead and was pulled back just enough to look into her sister's eyes, which were a warm amber and practically glowing with radiant life.

"Where have you been all this time?" The seventeen year old whispered hoarsely. "Everyone was convinced you were long dead, eaten by the ocean and drowned not so long ago."

Much to her surprise, the now nineteen year old laughed fondly and sat back; it was only then the youngest realized with a stark feeling of dread that her beautiful legs were now replaced with a stunning pastel pink tail. "You see, Tommy here…well, he made me truly happy! He even let me pick out my own tail, you see?"

"I-I do see," she replied in a tone that she forced to be content for her now undoubtedly cursed sister's sake. "And…and do you know what happened to Eliza?"

Once again, Angelica simply giggled and gestured over to her side. "Tommy spared her and her man because I told him too, of course! She should be done choosing her tail soon, and then we can all catch up!"

As promised, it was mere minutes that felt like lifetimes passing before a tall, dark-skinned man with seashell decorated hair and little coverage for clothes appeared with two shorter figures behind him. He walked confidently, easily scooping her sister into his arms and making her giggle helplessly before he met her gaze just long enough to make her pointedly look to his 'guests'. The sailor from before, a young man was olive skin and beautiful blue eyes, was now a deadly sort of beautiful with his mouth much more plump and large to accommodate for the new way of undoubted siren life he'd now partake in. Wrapped around his arm was her Eliza, whose brown eyes were wide and sad as she held fast to the man- siren- she'd now evidently been committed to her. Unlike Angelica, however, her legs were simply a scaly pastel blue adorned with a few clear scales, one that made her shimmer in the breaking of the dawn despite her resigned posture.

"I'm sure we could include you in on the family reunion," the man holding her eldest sister purred in a thick Southern drawl. "What do you say, little girl? Look around, look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now~"

In bone-chilling harmony, her sisters immediately echoed his refrain. "Look around, look around~"

This was wrong, and she did not have to be told twice. She was once again being forced beneath waves and nature-strength forces to conform, sit still, live a life of complacency and obedience, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. It was very, very clear that their beloved Angie was too far gone to ever hope of bringing back home, but Eliza wasn't; she was sad, she was afraid, she was still alive beneath the façade. She was about to protest and tell this siren what he could do his hands lingering all over her sibling's body, but meeting her Betsey's resolute gaze made her think twice.

Go, Eliza's voice echoed softly within her head with shocking clarity. Be free. Be all that we cannot, and I will learn to be happy among them. Should the time come, I promise that Alexander, God willing Angelica, and I will find you. You must go now or he shall never relent. I love you.

"I…" Peggy's words felt disconnected from her body, which quaked with suffering too terrible to name and felt as broken as her family members looked. "I love you both. Goodbye."

As she rushed back into her cabin and collapsed in a sorrow so terrible she couldn't make a sound, she blocked out the sound of the ship's help being lured to their gruesome deaths. When she reached the Caribbean, she allowed her long-term pen pal, one Mister John Laurens, to court her but not marry her for three years before finally determine she could wait no longer to wed the absolute love her life. When she became pregnant with their first child and they resided in their little vacation condo right by the sea, she spent her joyful days constantly tainted with the sadness of all she'd endured before for her lost sisters.

Above all of joys and sorrows of being Mrs. Laurens and the rebellious rock that somehow kept the living Schuylers somewhat together, Peggy waited for Eliza to fulfill her last promise.


	14. Dancing Girls Fairytale AU Part 3

**Author Notes:** TRIGGER WARNINGS: This chapter is quite gore filled and with body modification. Stay safe, my friends!

AND SO WE HAVE REACHED THE ENDING OF THIS THREESHOT! Thank you so much for following along with this little mini-series/short story, and thank you again to the incredible Lele for requesting the initial chapter as well as continuing on supporting in the comments along with And The Power of Peggy!

For this chapter, please conduct yourself as best you can to the chapter summary, and I ask that you suspend your disbelief to some of the events of their bodies; you must understand I believe sirens to be extremely physically able and strong, and that some events are a stretch because this is a modified fairytale at it's core. Without further adieu, enjoy!

* * *

 ** _The Dancing Sisters Fairytale AU, Pt. 3: The Dancing Sacrifice_**

* * *

If you were to ask any of the members of the siren community inhabiting the waters between Europe and North America, they would reply that they were much like each other aside from the two Schuyler sisters that they'd so graciously adopted. The eldest, a beautiful young woman enchanted to permeant joy and clear song, was simple to keep entertained and was great fun to torture without consequence when her committed lover was not around; regardless of how she may feel truly, she could never communicate how she truly felt, and all of the cruel, haunting and proud born or fully converted sirens had taken advantage of her at some point or another in the six years preceding her capture. The younger of the pair, another beauty who looked nothing like Angelica or the even younger one who'd gotten away, was cursed in the same way but not with the same attention to detail and diligence that her sister had been. Elizabeth was always smiling and dutiful, but her eyes told a stories of sadness, fury and rebellion, a trait that infuriated the same torturers but allows seemed to allude both her partner and Thomas when they complained or failed countless times to harm or take advantage of the young woman, who always retaliated and evaded while occasionally exacting revenge.

As for Eliza herself, she'd grown happy to be paired with an allegedly converted siren such as Alexander. For one thing, he didn't exact his cruel urges or eat any man, woman or child that plunged to be feasted upon, opting to pretend to before the others but consume carefully and rapidly cooked sea life along with herself in the safety of their tiny, private cove with a thick seaweed curtain to ensure privacy. He was by no means fully one of the terrible monsters that they resided with, and did everything he could to communicate genuinely with her and find out what the truth was beneath her cursed tongue; the two wrote endlessly in sand gathered from the seafloor and along the walls of their home, speaking plans to escape and means to live long enough to reach Europe and somehow make their way onto a ship bound for Caribbean to reunite with her beloved Peggy.

Of course, both halves of a somewhat happy couple knew the two major obstacles preventing their rapid escape were lifting her and her sister's curse as well as trying to save Angelica. The only person powerful enough and with enough potential to see through the lifting of the charms was the man Alexander hated with his entire soul, her retched partner Thomas, so the plan they finally got down to a practical science was to cause something too horrible for the spell to cover up.

Naturally, this was to have Eliza 'die', but as the day where they'd all be feeding after a 'mysterious lack of supplies' caused by Alexander came upon them, there were complications.

The first challenge were the victims they would have to convincingly 'eat', something they refused to do usually but feared might be necessary to sell Eliza's bout of appeared insanity. When the two began to harmonize, it was not a man or a woman that fell under their spell; it was a child, a boy no more than four or five, and he was wrapped around them so tightly that the only thing to do would be to let him leap or fail their plan and have them both slaughtered and killed. As soon as his tiny form hit the waves, the twenty three year old woman shot off like a rocket and rescued the child, lifting him to the surface and having him heave up water and gasp while she resurfaced on the other side of the ship.

"M-Mommy," the boy whimpered helplessly as she took a convoluted path she'd mapped with her love back to their cove. "M-Mommy, Mo-Mommy…"

"It's alright now," she soothed the best she could, her maternal instincts roaring to life despite the sinking feeling that she'd been forced to separate a boy from his mother. "It's alright. Where…where is your mommy?"

Much to her combined relief and horror, the practical baby shook his head and held his knees tightly to his chest. "Heaven. You're not my new mommy."

"Is your new mommy in Europe?" She inquired.

"Uh huh. Wanna go to see her, not you! You look weird!"

She supposed she ought to be offended, but he certainly wasn't incorrect. "How kind of you. Listen, little one, you must stay here and be very, very quiet, or else something not so nice will happen. Can you do that for me?"

It would've been for her overly cheerful demeanor and sugarcoated words to fly over his head, but he nodded and clamped his lips sealed, much to her genuine relief. Knowing she had no time to waste, she retrieved a clump of insides of shells from the top of her home, dried enough and stained by sea spray enough to vaguely resemble flesh, and hauled tail to go back to her 'family'. She climbed back to her rock with Alex, and she didn't have to pretend to vomit when she saw how his eyes were deranged and face was absolutely covered in human blood.

"Delicious, so delicious!" He chanted in complete jubilancy. "Feast, my darling, feast! The load is sweet this day!"

Eliza found herself completely unable to tell if he'd fallen in her temporary absence or if he was an exceptional actor, but as she stared at the snickering and relieved looking beasts around her, she just as well assumed she'd be alone from here out. With tears streaming down her face, she let out a terrible shriek, one that made the last few captives from the ship scream out as well and flee from their certain deaths.

"What is wrong with you?!" One of the monsters snarled.

"She ought to be slain and hung up for such gall!" Another snapped.

"My name is Elizabeth Schuyler!" She declared while gagging on her own grief and growing infuriated with how gleeful she sounded. "And you cannot keep me prisoner anymore!"

Not allowing herself another look back to her partner, she dove under the waves and resurfaced only to show her tail flicking up before disappearing under the ship. The bottom weighed even more than she could've imagined, and she found herself fighting and getting lost while losing nearly all of her oxygen. She clawed desperately as she was forced underneath the ocean, her hands and mouth searching frantically for a lose piece of wood, and when she managed to tear through she emerged gasping and sputtering into the mechanical room.

"Oi!" Her feelings of desperately needed relief were squandered by her hair being yanked up and thrown to the side before she was discarded in favor of rapidly patching the hole she'd made. "What in the hell are you?!"

Eliza knew she couldn't stop, not for a single second. She dragged herself over to the petrified and furious engineer, throwing her heavy tail against him and causing him to fall backwards. She grabbed a piece of the broken plank and began to tear at her mermaid flesh, her screams even more horrendous than her usual ones, but it wasn't until a knife was plunged through her singular muscle that she howled at full volume and terror.

With the last bit of strength she had, she squirmed back into the water and allowed the current to bob her back toward the siren colony.

* * *

Alexander had to remind himself only on a second-by-second basis that his love could conduct the first tier of their plan. He had to wrap his mouth around a corpse and be covered in blood, sure, but she'd no doubt saved the boy before diving beneath the ship. He was giving up hope that she'd survived enough to set off Phase II, but when he saw her unmistakable black hair emerged through the galloons of blood that'd been appearing beneath the vessel, he wasted no time in retrieving her.

Thomas's southern drawl broke up the general shock of the clan first. "Holy-"

His Eliza, his beautiful Eliza, was almost certainly dead, drained of life and too much blood to survive. He was no longer acting as he shrieked in sorrow, sobbing grossly into her chest as it was revealing her tail had a knife imbedded deeply into it to the point of it losing so much vital blood to compliment her blue tinted lips and face. It was only when he caught a wisp of hope in two twitches from her otherwise limp hand within his own that he knew she was fading fast but not entirely lost, but he couldn't let his flame of prospect show.

"Have you no heart?!" He demanded furiously to Thomas as he held her tightly. "Transform her back to as she was! I will bury her in the dignity we all knew she wanted to desperately!"

All of the colony's eyes were on him; some was surprisingly sympathetic, some even tearful, as many were apathetic and others seemed too appalled to emote otherwise. Thomas, God blessed be, seemed sympathetic as he covered his own wife's eyes from the horror; the bastard knew what such a scene would do if she were to realize it, a fact he and Betsey had been counting on.

"Very well," he conceded with a soft sigh. "I can't imagine why she finally cracked after all this time. You ought to be ashamed you did little more than watch her perish; you've only yourself to blame, you foolish Halfling."

Alex was no stranger to being called derogatory names and the abuse from one of the leaders, but it was only now as he held his quite possibly dead one and only that he was finally able to exact revenge. As he touched her chest- a little too much so across her breasts, he noted with red-hot fury- and her go-lucky expression relaxed and her tail was replaced with two paper-white legs with a massive gash across the top of her right kneecap, he lunged and knocked his sister in law free of Thomas's iron grip.

At first, Angelica giggled as she sat up. "Are we wrestling now, Lexi?"

"Look around, look around, at how unlucky we are to be alive right now," he choked out as he was immediately caught in the clawing grip of his 'boss'.

Angelica did as she was implored, and as soon as she saw the corpse, she froze in a manor so stiff and stunned that her lover loosened his penetrating hold just a little.

"Angie…Angel, sugarplum, my darlin', this ain't what it looks like. Just another one of your silly dreams."

Silly dreams. So she was still in there all along, unable to cry or rebel or even frown, and now she was fully awake to gaze on her sister's lifeless form. The twenty four, nearly twenty five year old mermaid/siren was perfectly still for several minutes, and to Alex's horror, she finally broke out of stunned horror to scoot back into her husband's arms with a happy expression.

"Good thing this is a dream," she chirped. "Because of this weren't, I'd just have to say that neither of us are ever waking up."

It happened in a blur, but Angelica Schuyler clamped her jaw around Thomas's neck with her full weight thrown against him and sending them both struggling under water. Even if he was lugging a corpse, Alexander immediately grabbed his love and jumped into the sea, furiously swimming and fighting to keep them both above the surface as he sang in broken, desperate fragments.

"See me, help m-me!" He called desperately as some of the colony began to surround and yank him away from the potential safety of the ship. "See me, help me~! SEE ME, HELP ME SEE ME HELP ME~!"

If a siren ever consumed another of their time, two fundamental truths would occur; the eaten would convert into whatever they prior to decease, and the eater would be completely shattered mentally from being a cannibal. None of this evidently mattered to the female now chomping down on his dominant arm, leaving him to kick as hard as could away from the males and towards the ship now moving even more quickly away.

He didn't remember losing all the blood he did. He didn't remember being laid on the deck and kept alive through an emergency kit, or being put under entirely for a rapid surgery to save his life. He didn't even remember seeing his girlfriend right beside him on a ventilator, her face slowly regaining color and her savior crying in relief as she began to breathe with the machine. All Alexander Hamilton remembered before a cold darkness consumed him was a man in a bandana lifting him out of the sea with a pair of orange earplugs wedged securely beneath the head cloth, said gentleman clinging to a half descended buoy and gripping another lifeless body between his legs.

* * *

As it turned out, it was remarkably hard to convince a traveling ship full of traumatized people, even when a little boy was involved. Eliza ended up hauling ass to the best of her ability, which was crawling, to the lifeboats until the kind gentleman who resuscitated her eventually implored the captain to change course under the promise to stay out of the range of the sirens and for he and the kind man who saved her boyfriend's life to be the one to retrieve the youth. Though both men came back cut up and looking quite shaken, they had the little one in hand, who immediately clung to her.

"Al-Alexander," she whispered hoarsely as she enjoyed the second day she was able to breathe independently with her partner consistently awake beside her. "What happened to her? What happened to my Angelica?"

A dark expression took over his handsome features, and the cold feeling settling into the pit of her stomach proved her worst fears were true. "She attacked Thomas when she saw you…well, dead. She said that they were both never going to wake up."

"Oh, my Angie," she whispered as the tears began to stream down her face. "God, Peggy will be so angry we didn't save her."

He took one of her hands with the one that he still had, abet a bit clumsily. "Peggy will just be glad that you're alive. We did all that we could."

Her grief and survivor's guilt enveloped the rest of their long trip to the Caribbean, but her beloved Alexander never stopped his comforting and reassurances. The two of them also informally adopted the boy after his 'new parents' turned out to simply be another orphanage, filing all the paperwork and taking him to their new home before a second doubt could arise about the very much alive princess of the Schuyler kingdom.

"Hello?" When the door of a well-decorated and cozy home opened, the now oldest sister began to cry immediately upon seeing her grown little sister with an adorable child in her arms. "B-Betsey? BETSEY!"

As time continued on, the physical relinquishes made by Eliza and Alex simply became a normal part of life, and the terrible pain by Angelica's ultimate sacrifice was cushioned with time and the same unconditional love. John Laurens was a very handsome and loving man to her lovely Peggy, and it was only a few months before she was wed to the man she survived against the odds with along with formally adopting their sunny little boy, Phillip. The five of them eventually became a large family, all remaining together as they moved houses four times to accommodate their children and the family that visited more regularly than ever on a new route directly to the Caribbean from their kingdom.

As Eliza sat on her front porch beside her second oldest child, a firey little girl who looked so much like her namesake it almost broke her heart, Angelica looked over as she finished reading a story of fairytales to the youngest children. "And they all lived happily ever after?"

The woman simply smiled and wrapped her arm around her eldest daughter with a tight, affectionate squeeze. "Exactly."

And though they did not live perfectly or without trials, they all lived contently ever after.


	15. Reindeer Onesies (Holiday Elams)

**Author Notes:** HUGE shoutout to the-best-fool on Tumblr for a wonderful list of Christmas-themed prompts, which gave me the fuel for a long overdo (and v festive update), and very warm shoutouts to my lovely Amanda and lovely Sarah, who are my fellow mega Elams fans!

Holiday prompts are highly requested for pretty much any ship pairing this month and I'm finally done with finals, so please, ask away! More 'regular' (that is, non-holiday) prompts will be filled, coming soon to an Internet near you, bu this time of year and just had to celebrate with my favorite Hamilton ship!

* * *

"I think you're lying to me," John announced to his very beautiful wife, who was glowing with excitement as she held their nearly four year old in her arms. "I think you have gone too far into Pinterest, found the cutest and more embarrassing thing you could find, and now you are lying to me to convince me it is a 'family tradition'."

"She's not lying!" His very handsome husband called in response, his head poking out ever so slightly from he was leaned back in his office chair from working on some new essay project. "We do it every year!"

"Every year?! Oh, God be with me!" The South Carolina native lamented dramatically. "I shall never be man on the nights before Christmas!"

"You can take that toxic masculinity elsewhere in front of our very impressionable young son!" Eliza exclaimed nearly immediately, her eyes narrowing playfully as she covered their hyperactive toddler's ears. "Besides, who needs to be tough and macho when you're celebrating the best time of the year with your family? Papa never needed to; neither did my brothers."

"Very well!" John dramatically conceded, but if truth be told, he didn't really mind.

Eliza perked up even more and gently handed over their baby boy, Phillip, who immediately giggled and hugged onto his Papa while his mother went to fetch the onesies and likely their baby girl, Frances. Alexander finally made his way out of his office, which he'd essentially been fused to for the past two weeks, and gave them both a tired smile before plopping down on the couch in dramatic glory.

"I'm going to sleep and relax with my loved ones for the next two weeks," he declared with a warm smile to Phillip, making the toddler bounce and wiggle to get down. "The office won't be hearing a peep from me until the new year. How's that sound, Pip-Pip?"

"Daddy!" The three year old exclaimed eagerly while tumbling over himself to climb into his father's lap. "Daddy home!"

"That's right, buddy!" Alexander laughed gently while helping the child up for some snuggling. "Daddy's home for a while, just for you and your baby sister."

"Franny! Franny…Mommy…make! We make! We make cookies!" The child chirped excitedly while he clung closer to his parent, and while the two of them talked and bonded as father-son, John couldn't help but still feel left out despite having been the final piece in the relationship between Alex and Eliza.

He knew it was bound to happen, of course. He'd known his best friend since they were teenagers, their eyes ablaze for joining the armed forces and sexualities finding each other as partners. No matter how he had never doubted his partner's love, Laurens broke things off the second he saw how helplessly in love he became for the middle Schuyler sister, and had been silently hurting until both of them approached him in Eliza's third trimester and after being married almost a year to inquire if he was interested in being in a polyamorous relationship with them. As they'd made it quite clear, they were both very much in love with each other and one of their mutual best friends, and even if he were to decline, the face that they were both absolutely on the same page had made their relationship even stronger and healthier than it had been keeping it from each other out of monogamous-assumed shame.

Now they'd all been wed for seven months, and immediately after their wedding to unify the three of them in a gorgeous ceremony that made them the happiest partners in the universe, they were overjoyed to find out she was pregnant immediately thereafter. Frances was undoubtedly his, her sharp features and light brown skin practically mirror to his, and while her birth was by far his greatest achievement besides his marriage and being the second papa to Pip, he couldn't help the feelings of being an outsider. Of course the three of them had spent the holidays the previous year together, but not overnight due to his obligations to his mother and siblings, and now he got to witness and learn their traditions as though he'd belonged there all along when they all secretly knew he didn't.

"Tada!" Eliza came out with their daughter in hand, her tiny frame absolutely swaddled in a warm reindeer onesie. "Isn't this the most precious thing you've ever laid your eyes on?"

"Well, any of you fall into that category at any time, so yes," John agreed with a fond beam, taking the baby from her arms and snuggling her close to his chest. "Hello, my little miracle. Aren't you just to die for!"

Frances cooed eagerly, clearly pleased by the praise and attention, and he continued to hold her with warm affection as his wife shimmied her own onesie over her pajamas, a matching set that was well-loved and worn with festive sayings all over the pants and a beautifully designed 'Sleep in Heavenly Peace' on the shirt. The young woman pulled her hood over her head and beamed anew, like she finally felt complete, and how her eyes glowed in the festive lights all over their home did his insecure heart much good.

"It's your turn!" She insisted while taking their daughter, who fussed until she was placed into her playpen, where her favorite toys waited for her. "Go on, and one of you be a dear and get Phillip in his!"

"C'mon, buddy," Alex volunteered kindly while lifting the tot up onto his shoulders. "Let's go get changed into our pajamas!"

"Jamas!" Pip cheered as they went, John trailing behind them silently as he dipped into their master bathroom after grabbing the garment off their king sized, custom made bed that her father had gotten them as an early Christmas present.

As the twenty five year old dressed in his own reindeer onesie, he couldn't help but reflect on how he'd be spending this evening without his beloved spouses and children. His mother was undoubtedly working her hardest with his youngest sister on the feast, probably taking a break now to serve the 'mini buffet' that came with it being Christmas Eve, and his father would be out getting drunk out of it his mind with the holiday deals, all alone in some bar like he deserved. His younger brother and older sister were wrapping their presents or playing a board game with their cousins, and his expansive home looked as Hallmark perfect as it had the day following Thanksgiving with the help of their hired help. As occasionally insincere and problematic his loved ones could be, he did adore his mother and siblings, and he felt less at home as he ever had while the sounds of his husband's and adopted son's laughter rang out from the nearby room.

'Perhaps some people are just meant to be alone,' he mused despondently to himself as he adjusted the fuzzy garment around his pajamas.

"My boys!" Their Betsey was hardly able to contain herself as the three of them made their way back into the living room, her cheeks rosy from smiling so much and her camera snapping pictures in her hands. "Aww, my handsome boys! Look at Mommy, baby boy, look at Mommy…! Alexander, stop sticking out your tongue! One nice photo!"

John couldn't help but flush wide pride when he saw his male spouse and child smiling with the boy happily holding close to his father. Alexander's hood completely covered his head, his hair hanging freely at his shoulders underneath fabric while the decorated head covered his forehead. Phillip was clearly very comfy in his, his own hair too puffy and curly to be fully contained while he laughed and played while his mother photographed this moment.

"Johnny, why don't you get Franny for me?" His wife requested sweetly. "Then I can get some of you two holding them together, and maybe some of my handsome partner alone, hm?"

"Be sure to get the kiddos together," he advised while scooping up their youngest and his first biologically created child. "They won't be this tiny forever; Alexander and I will also look this devilishly handsome."

"Be still my heart," she teased before lifting the device back over her face. "Franny! Frances, honey, look at Mommy!"

Around an hour and about a million pictures later, the three of the adults had finally settled on the couch while Phillip contently played on his tablet and Frances played with her stuffed animals in her play pen. John's heart ached slightly when they both reached for his hands at the same time, a notion that normally left him giddy but now just reminded him of how much he stuck out.

"John, you've been awfully quiet since we put these on," Alex noted softly. "Is something on your mind?"

"It's nothing," he replied much too quickly. "Just thinking about…my family, I guess."

"Your family here or your mother and siblings?" Eliza wisely caught at once, something that made him only redden in the face.

"…I just don't really mesh well here, at least not naturally," he admitted reluctantly, the walls he'd once been a master at fortifying to never even tremble easily dissolving under their concerned gazes; how could he lie to the best things in his previously somber life? "You two have been together for years, and spent all these holidays together, even with Pip-Pip. Why would you want someone like me coming in and glooming the place up with his young adult angst bullshit?"

"Little ears," Betsey replied gently before answering his no longer subtle call for reassurance. "Johnny…It's never easy living in a mixed family; Alexander could tell you better than me, but there's a lot to be said for a person who loves their partners so very much he's willing to make some compromises and even sacrifices on his end. We know the background you come from, and that this year brings up painful memories, but how are you spending it with your spouses of eight months? Playing with your kids, wearing fuzzy onesies, letting your wife take pictures…having fun. At least, I hope you are?"

"Of course I am!" He conceded immediately. "You both have your traditions, though, and you're having to accommodate to me. I don't want to be a burden when I've got nothing to add."

"Sure you do!" Alex slipped his arm around him fully, turning his body to face him more fully while squeezing his hand with his free left one. "John, one of the most entertaining parts of the holiday is mixing Christmas traditions. Knowing Mama Laurens, you have things we just can't wait to try for ourselves; how about those handmade ornaments you taught us and Phillip to make, or those recipes we tried on Thanksgiving? You aren't a burden in the slightest for being new to our quirky little annuals; as a matter of fact, we're probably the obnoxious ones for having so many!"

"Never," he corrected. "I love spending so much time with both of you more than I have the words to describe. The thing you've given to me are too wonderful for me to be able to ever repay…Your presence in my life all throughout the years gave me my mother and siblings back, but I gained even more in dating and having the greatest honor of locking you both to me with wedding bands. I have an adopted son who shines brighter than the sun, a beautiful daughter from my own loins who is a sharp as a needle, two perfect spouses…I just want to be able to live up to the man I want to be, the husband you both deserve, and a father to make Pip and Franny proud."

To his horror, both of his spouses had tears in their eyes, but they hugged him tightly before he could apologize. With their breath hot on his chest and shoulders, their hearts beating strongly through all the fabric between them, Laurens felt as though if they hold on close enough, perhaps they'd become even more whole than they could've imagined. All of them, even sweet Eliza, had been damaged by the cruelty of life and the difficulty of caring about others- Alexander even more so than him, he'd decided long ago- and yet there was never this air of 'getting over it' than existed in the walls of the Laurens Manor. Instead, they talked openly, emotionally sincere and honestly, and the reassurance poured out of his mouth as it did theirs in times of joy tinted with doubt as well as times of pain and heartbreak. As a much younger person, he could've never imagined all he had now, and for that he was determined to keep it.

"You never used to talk like that," Alex remarked with a soft, fond laugh. "You'd keep it all bottled up until you passed out at the bar or got into a fight. We could never get it out of you with all those layers, but I guess we finally wore your stubborn as- butt down."

"I know you know we love each other," Eliza added after she stopped the reprimanding look to her other husband for his language. "But we want to show you how much we love you. We were a happy couple, but the fulfillment we get from being your husband and wife? God, I couldn't be happier if I tried; could you, Alexander?"

"Nope," he concurred before leaning close to his ear. "I'll be sure to give you a ride through Santa's sleigh later, and I bet Mrs. Claus has gifts her own to share."

"What does that make me?!" He exclaimed despite the notions making him even more over the moon. "Your elf?"

"Nope!" Their wife giggled and tugged at his hood, which had a red nose like the children's, fondly. "That makes you Rudolph!"

"The implications of that statement disturb me!" John protested, but truth be evident, he didn't mind. "Now, out of all the photos you took, we didn't get any altogether. Come on, I'll show you how to set up the tripod again, and we'll get something for the holiday card next year."

"But aren't you supposed to use only updated photos so extended family can see how you change?" Alex pointed out, smartass he was.

"At least it'll make a good Facebook photo!" He exclaimed with mock frustration, something that made his lady and son giggle.

Directly thereafter, they had a few fails for posing before getting a few very nice snaps, and he had the idea to show them all how to make their own festive-themed cookies like the Pillsbury ones, but better. Mostly the adults made their gingerbread house after a nice supper, one Eliza had made out much like his own mother with the more expansive meal either put up for cooling or that was slow cooking, and a holiday movie finally knocked their hyper toddler out for the night so they could go make love.

All and all (and despite how cheesy he knew it sounded), John and his dearest family had a very, very merry Christmas.


	16. The Importance of Being Together(Lafria)

**Author Notes:** Request fufilled from Lele426!

TW: MAJOR, MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS BEFORE THE CUT FOR GRAPHIC DOMESTIC ABUSE!

* * *

Maria didn't do anything to provoke her husband. She'd made dinner a bit earlier than usual and was in the middle of feeding their toddler when he came in, looking like a mess as per usual as he dressed out of his working clothes, which changed daily to suite the various occupations he took up under the radar to provide just enough money to ensure their survival. As he sat down at the table, he pushed his food around on his plate for a few moments before slapping his hand down on the table loudly and shooting a glare to his wife.

"This is fucking frozen," he snapped cruelly. "It's nasty. You expect me to eat this fucking garbage?"

"Dearest, you eat this all the time. It only takes a couple of minutes to heat it up," Maria reminded in a quiet tone. "That wouldn't be too much to ask, would it?"

"You disgust me," James snapped, picking up the plate and chucking at her head with such force that had she not ducked away, it would've shattered against her head rather than the wall. "You expect me to take this bullshit?! I provide everything for you and our bastard child, and you have the NERVE to give me some frozen ass dinner?! You've forgotten your place, you goddamn whore!"

"I'll heat it up!" And just like that their relationship was another battlefield, one where she was his enemy and he was the valiant hero that had to slay every impure part of her to save the sludge inside that he'd take pity on when the dust cleared. "I'll remake it, I'll do whatever you want! I promise!"

"Fuck your lying ass and fuck this goddamn abomination you call a meal!" He roared, seizing her by the hair as she screamed and struggled as desperately as she could when she was still healing from his last punishments, underfed and ill. "I'LL TEACH YOU TO DISRESPECT ME!"

The next amount of time was unmeasurable and lost to her as she simply tried to keep breathing. All that existed was pain, pain, pain, all worse than the last, all ripping open all the wounds that were far deeper than simply physical, all engulfing her existence so that she could remember this was all she was. Maria Reynolds was a whore. Maria Reynolds was an insufferable bitch who did not deserve ever a sliver of kindness that she'd get greedier on. Maria Reynolds deserved all the abuse, all the belittling, and all the suffering. Maria Reynolds would not be alive if it weren't for her gracious husband. Maria Reynolds did not deserve to live.

When it was finally over, when she could open eye that wasn't swollen shut and the blade had stopped its biting, she no longer heard her daughter screaming or crying. She lifted herself up on sheer will alone, her strength a ghost in her body as she searched for the one thing she cared to protect in this life. She finally found her curled up in the deepest crevice of the linen closet, her tiny form fitting perfectly in the wooden tunnel built into their home long ago to serve as an escape route should there be no other way. Certainly her husband didn't know about it- he'd call it useless and have it sealed- and she herself doubted she'd be able to wiggle through, but the two year old was like a puzzle piece against it as she stared out with sad, terrified eyes to her mother.

"Mommy," the tot whispered brokenly. "Daddy go."

"Yes, baby girl, Daddy's gone," Maria assured softly, hoping that her daughter couldn't see the blood she knew was trickling from her lips. "Do you want to stay in there for a little while? Mommy can clean things up and get some yummy food for you. Whatever you want."

"Kay Mommy…" The toddler eased herself back into the crevice, and the mother internally thanked herself for never reinforcing the thin mood that covered the exit should her child ever need to take off for help if things ever got worse.

Truthfully, it sickened her to know she had to have the same talk with her only offspring that her grandmother once had with her, but at least Susan would always have a way out as long as that tunnel stayed intact and Maria ensured it was big enough to be slipped through by her daughter.

Showering was painful, almost as bad as the actual beatings, but nothing was worse than trying to desperately bandage herself back up with all the new bruises, welts, cuts and God knows what else. Eventually she resigned herself to simply pulling on a red nightgown and proceeding on, trying to fix her baby's favorite meal with only one hand due to the awful, awful agony in her dominant one was in. By some miracle (or maybe just agonizing luck), she got the macaroni and cheese with dinosaur nuggets on a plate before retrieving the light of her life to eat it. As per James's increasing violent and seen-to threats, she could never tell a soul about the things he did to her, but she resolved herself enough to call her mother over to watch the toddler while she 'ran to the store'.

"Can't James watch her for once in his life?" Her mother asked; she'd never liked the man who'd wed her at the tender age of fifteen in dark market certificate, but her own insistence he was the best thing to ever happen to her had kept her from intervening. "Don't you tell me he's off drinking again."

"Mama, he hasn't even gotten home yet. He's working late today," Maria lied with the defeat sagging down her morale. "Please just hurry. I need to go now before they close; I love you."

The terribly battered woman was intending to go to the hospital for her wrist, but she had no time to call an Uber or stall if her parent was coming over immediately. Instead, she fumbled on some boots and decided against the agony of trying a coat, as it was only September and the wind couldn't be that terrible yet. With a final kiss to her beloved Susan, she made her way out of the door and began to run, as quickly as she could manage with her entire being begging for mercy, until she collapsed on a vacant bench in the park with tears pouring down her face and every joint ablaze.

The wind was picking up around her. Her nightgown was clinging to her body, providing little to no warmth as thunder rumbled dangerously above her. As she lay completely helpless on the park bench- God knows what had been on it lately- she resolved this was exactly how she deserved to die. For the millionth time in her miserable existence, she was alone, and this time she very well may perish here. The rain began to fall in heavy, frigid drops, but she didn't have the strength to cry even if she wasn't too numb to care anymore.

"Ello? Miss?" A voice with a strange, foreign accent inquired, too close to ignore.

When she opened her good eye, she discovered a gentleman clad very well in autumn-appropriate clothing and a concerned expression to be standing directly over her with his large umbrella in hand. The streetlights glowed against the ink of night, revealing his hair to be long and piled in neat curled on top of his head, and the amber of his eyes reflected so beautifully it felt as though they saw right through her.

"He-hello, sorry," she mumbled, sitting up carefully and trying not to agitate her wrist further. "I'm not trying to loiter. I'll go home now."

"Wait, wait," the man implored with his thickly accented voice weighted with concern that sounded too genuine to ignore in her current state. "You look half-alive, ma'am. Who did this to you?"

"Nobody did anything to me," she responded like she'd been trained to a thousand times. "The light is playing tricks on you, sir. Thank you for your worry, but I really am fine and must be going."

When he grabbed her lame wrist, she was expecting him to snap it for being so bold around him or at least sternly tell her what for due to her ruining the park with her sad ass. The moment a cry erupted from her lips, however, he dropped it without another move to regain it, and she found herself pressed against the warm layers of his coat as she was escorted by his arm around her tightly. The young woman figured she was being kidnapped now, and that with her being gone, Susan could finally have a good life with her beloved parents and thrive, but the concern for herself was simply no longer there. Needless to say that she was quite surprised when she was brought into a parking garage and driven to a hospital, one with residents who were clearly appalled by her state and rushed her into a room where they hooked up all kinds of monitors and got her prepped for a surgery.

"I can't pay for this!" She'd screamed as the kind man carried her in and continued to insist as they treated her. "I can't! He'll kill me! He'll fucking kill me when he finds out, he will! LET ME GO!"

When the world slowly returned into focus, she found herself waking up from what felt like the best sleep she'd had in years. She looked around to find herself still in a hospital room, now with all the monitors along with sterile, carefully applied bandages and a cast on her aching wrist. In the corner of the room, a man who absolutely took her breath away sat with his hair tied up messily on his head, sweats, and a hoodie that read 'Immigrants: We Get the Job Done'. As if he could sense her movement despite having his eyes on his phone before, he made eye contact with her so abruptly that she dropped her gaze and waited for scolding for such a cowardly action.

"Ma chere, are you alright?" He inquired softly. "You were in a really bad shape last night; we were all quite worried about you."

"Why did you stay?" The question slipped from her lips before she could filter it through, to perform a carefully crafted set of responses to never elicit a response like she always did for her husband.

"I hope it is not too creepy, amour," he apologized, and unlike James's many utterances of the same, she felt inclined to believe him. "I was quite worried about you. You were in a condition no human being should ever have to suffer through, and I wanted to ensure I saw you to the other side. I hope you do not mind."

For the first time in the long, torturous eleven years, Maria felt like she could answer someone who acted like they cared with honesty. "Not…not at all. My name is…Maria."

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Maria. Please call me Gilbert."

* * *

At the end of the day, it was Alexander's fault that Gilbert de Lafayette met his wife and future daughter.

The short man had implored that he take his place so he could go home to his partners and their case was still prepared for the following Monday, and while he gave him plenty of Hell for it, he did agree under the knowledge he didn't mind helping at all and had nothing better to do regardless. Considering how the forecast never mentioned poor weather, the Frenchman had simply walked his commute to work and thanked his lucky stars for keeping a spare umbrella in his office for occasions such as the night that was upon him when it was all prepared. He hadn't been expecting to run into anyone in the park, much less discover a half-dead woman who looked like one of the many sorrowfully tormented souls of the revolution he'd just been honorably discharged from serving in the military, but everything he'd learned during his time kicked in to keep her alive.

When she'd been realized from the hospital, he had simply offered to watch over her young daughter while she figured out a new place to live. As he bonded with the child, however, he grew closer to her incredibly strong, beautiful and kind mother, who finally worked up to ask out on a date after the court date for their divorce was set. The process had been long and complicated, especially with the custody battle, but in the end the immigrant had some of the best lawyers in the state on their side (including himself) and they were able to essentially liberate the two from James Reynolds's freak show of a mentality as well as get him behind bars.

"Papa, help!" Susan, who was now and always the prettiest little girl he'd ever be proud to call his own, implored from where she stood decorating their Christmas tree now. "I gotta put the star on top!"

Gil lifted the six year old with ease, holding her up to the best of his ability like she was the baby Simba until she finally announced it was perfect. "It is perfect, sweetheart. Now, why don't you get your mommy so she can see me light it up?"

The child beamed and rushed on her way, her curls that matched her mother's flying behind her and energy admirable by the most active of adults. It had taken years to get her to be able to open up fully, show all of her damaged edges to him, but he was not easily deterred to someone he adored so fully. Together they'd built a relationship full of trust and honesty, one that was finally celebrating in a princess-like wedding that God knew both of his girls deserved just over one year ago. The France native smiled as they both entered now, a mother and daughter nearly identical in their beauty, and kissed his wife after getting a small squeeze to the hand that meant consent.

"Papa, hurry up!" The child insisted as he fumbled with the various cords. "You gotta huuuurriieeee!"

"Okay, okay!" Gil laughed as he finally found the correct ends to maximize light while not blowing out their circuits like last year. "I'm about to do it! Count me down, Susie!"

"5!" The kindergartener chanted excited, her eyes flitting back and forth between her parents will all the innocent joy that only childhood brought. "4! 3! 2~!"

"Wait, wait!" Maria exclaimed suddenly, her eyes twinkling despite the lights not yet being switched on. "I have one more ornament to put on! I'm so sorry, Gil, will you wait here with Susie while I fetch it?"

"OKAY MOMMY!" Their daughter responded eagerly, so much so that the man began to seriously wonder what the two of them could be hiding from him.

"I feel left out!" He lamented dramatically, leaning to the wall and winking fondly to their kiddo as his true love looked around for the ornament in question.

"Here we are!"

When Maria, his beloved Maria, put the final decoration on the tree, Gilbert could hardly believe his eyes. The ornament was decorated like a present with a flat, solid backing, and in a little frame that was perfectly filled with a symmetrical, laminated piece of paper, there was an ultrasound photograph. Above this in gold lettering, the frame read 'Baby's First Christmas'. He turned around with his mouth gaping and she simply smiled hopefully at him, holding up two pregnancy tests in one hand and more full-sized pictures in the other with a tearful laugh.

"I'm sorry for keeping it from you," she almost whispered with guilt fraying on the rest of her overwhelming positive emotions. "But I wanted to surprise you."

With all the enthusiasm that he first lifted her into his arms with, Gil gathered her up and spun her around, laughing and crying himself. "I am so happy! Oh, my darling, do not apologize! This is the happiest day of my life, right beside marrying you and adopting Susie! Oh my goodness, my darling wife!"

And just like the pieces of their family were once so easily set apart by fate, once again in the warmth of their living room with the lights soon glowing and the fireplace warning, they were all whole again together.


	17. The Passion of Loyality (Family-Centric)

**Author Note:** This was request filled by the very lovely Goatly_Sacrfiices! I absolutely adored writing a 'Schuylers adopt Alexander' AU, as I'd never considered it before and am just in love with it now! Please enjoy, remember that requests are open, and have very safe and very happy holidays!

* * *

The girl who caught Alexander's eye first was the one in the brightly colored floral dress with thick curly hair that was barely contained with her pale pink sunglasses. He'd never seen a shade of pink that brightly, especially not with that pattern, which was strange considering how many tourists he saw being a kid in the Caribbean. She was holding on to the fanny pack of a woman with long, thick hair that was straight who had the same eyes- probably her mother- and was talking very animatedly to whoever else was on their boat that he couldn't see in his current position.

"Alexander!" His cousin's voice quipped out sharply, alarming the boy so much he sprung right to his feet from where he'd been hanging his legs off the edge of the small but steep cliff. "What are you doing lazing around, huh? There is work to be done!"

"I have done all of my chores and responsibilities!" He argued at once. "I can do whatever I want with the rest of my day!"

"You are done when I say you are done!" Stephan insisted while grabbing the spritely eight year old's arm. "Come on now, you have a booth to maintain, little boy!"

"Let me go!" Alex immediately protested, digging his bare heels into the sand and yanking back as hard as he could. "Let me go! You are not my father, you are not my mother! LET GO!"

"Excuse me, sir." Suddenly a man with light brown skin and a somber expression was before them, his eyes steady underneath his eloquently designed glasses. "I hope there is not a problem? It is just as well not my business, but you are handling that child rather roughly as he screams. I couldn't help but overhear and become concerned."

"You fucking tourists are all the same! You're here to save the poor little island rats, aren't you?" Stephan spit condemningly, shoving the younger boy and sending him tumbling down the cliffside until he was at the man's feet. "There! You can keep his spoiled ass!"

"Stephan!" Alexander shouted furiously, clambering to ascend the side of the mountain but simply falling back into the sand several times. "Stephan, fuck you! You're the worst person I've ever met! Go choke!"

"Does that man hurt you often?" The older gentleman, who reeked of foreigner in his smart but casual suit and unusual speech, inquired in a kind tone. "That is certainly no way to treat a young man."

"What do you care? I don't have many or services to give you," the boy replied sharply. "Just leave me alone, okay?"

"Papa?" A small, feminine voice quipped from behind the foreigner, and Alex felt his entire face heat up anew when he caught sight of a pretty little girl now holding onto his arm with her gorgeous brown eyes right on him. "Who is this?"

"I'm not sure," her father admitted with a raised eyebrow. "He doesn't want our help though, it seems. Come along, Betsey, your mother is hungry and I'm sure you are too."

"W-wait!" The eight year old exclaimed sharply, so much so he immediately shrunk with the two turned back around. "I…I am…hungry. I-if you really mean to help me…"

The older man simply raised a hand, one that made him clamp his mouth shut and brace for impact before he spoke. "You are more than welcome to join my family for dinner, son. Come along now."

"N-notcha son," he grumbled on instinct, but he obediently scampered after them regardless.

In front of the boat, which was large enough to fit a much bigger family and clearly well-loved but extremely well made, the woman with the straight black hair was standing with another little girl and baby swaddled in her arms. She looked curiously to him, as if she'd perhaps miscounted how many children they had, before kissing the man and exchanging several whispers with him. He wanted to squeeze in and demand to know what they were saying about it, but that's when the girl he'd seen first grabbed him by the arm and gave him a disbelieving look with a raised eyebrow.

"Who are you?" She demanded sharply. "Why do you keep looking at my sisters? I'll clock you into next week, buddy! Just try me!"

"I'll have you know my name is Alexander Hamilton, and the one thing I hate the most in the world is bullies!" He snapped back while crossing his arms. "Back off!"

The girl stared at him with inquisitive eyes, ones that continued to shine against the golden sunlight that made his island beautifully. He wondered if she was going to punch him, curse at him, or try to get him arrested or beaten; it wouldn't be too unusual given his luck. Instead, she extended her hand out formally and squared her shoulders as though she'd made up her mind.

"My name is Angelica Schuyler," she greeted. "And I'm going to take care of you as much as I can."

* * *

Learning how to be a rich kid was not as easy as one might imagine. For starters, he was constantly hiding food and change in his room- which, by the way- was about twice the size of his cousin's home- just in case they ever ejected him, which they surprisingly never even threatened to. He had more nightmares than his siblings combined, and he was always referring to death as though it was something that he was ready to accept at any moment rather than something unknown or to be afraid of. He broke down into an emotional mess if he didn't hear from his family every few hours and claimed they committed suicide or got deathly ill or died despite they weren't as unstable as Stephan or as unprepared for fever like his poor mama, and he got kicked out of seven schools before he finally settled into a private academy that was co-ed rather than simply for boys or a public school.

Despite all of the things Alex had been through in the past five years, learning how to love and care for the Schuyler family was one of the easiest things in the world. He had miles and miles built on years of mistrust for the general public and was slow to warm up to them, yes, but he was taught by their persistent kindness and genuine love to not hide his trauma behind jokes or grit while being able to care for them any way he knew how in return for these wonderful gifts. He was referring to Phillip as 'Papa' after nine months and Catherine 'Mama' after two years, and the three Irish triplets as well as his two little brothers were better siblings than his biologically related James ever was (especially when the elder Hamilton refused to leave the island and instead went into foster care.)

Phillip Jeremiah was the baby of the family at three years old, and was like his father in almost every sense of the name. Even though he was a toddler, he was very serious and soft-spoken, and he was always trying to mediate between his older siblings while maintain an air of independence, so Alexander grew quite fond of the little one. John was now five years of age rather than only a few months old like when he first met the boy, who was now a scientifically inclined prodigy who loved to experiment with things and learn about math or how things worked by any means possible. Many things had been remade by the youth (and even more broken) and he left a disaster of wires, screws and casings wherever he lingered, but he was still fascinating to be around and was always down to listen, so he caught along just as well with him as with the youngest brother.

Margaret, who insisted to be 'Peggy' under all circumstances, was the creative one who loved all types of art and drew constantly while making the most bold and unusual fashion choices, all things that made her a lot of fun to be around and even more entertaining to lovingly mess with. She was quite passionate and always spoke her mind just as well as her sisters, but she was also the most level-headed and non-judgmental, so he took great comfort in asking her advice or worldviews despite being one of her usual models to be used as either a canvas or a breathing statue. Eliza (and occasionally known as 'Betsey') was one of his best friends in the universe and the person usually confused as his twin, as the two were practically joined at the hip. She was a tomboy and loved to play outside/get dirty, so they ran around all the time doing sports and burning up all the energy of being young as a team. Both of them were in track and field and on the respective baseball teams, and while she was a cheerleader and he was a basketball player, they still got to spend a lot of time together. She was sweet and trusting despite how rough-and-tumble she was, two things that made he and their older sister insanely protective, but he knew that despite his bite that he'd never top how much of a guardian Angelica was to all of them.

Angelica Schuyler was the bravest person he'd ever met, and he was honored to call her his big sister. She had a quick wit, a sharp tongue, and a lot of intellect that made her captain of the debate team and student body president, and she'd kick in anyone's teeth off of school property who dared to fuck with the Schuyler siblings. Her protective streak was one of the most well-known things about her along with her skills in a strategic fight, whether it be with words or fists, and people respected her a lot for that. Alexander idolized her secretly (and would never admit it), but he got to find out just how devout she was when they began high school.

"Get out of my way, immigrant," Thomas Jefferson spat in his direction, shoving him against the lockers unforgivingly as he stalked by. "We don't want you here, you damn pest. Why don't you swim back across the sea where you belong?"

"If my being here pisses you off, I must be doing something right," Alexander retorted proudly as he straightened himself.

"Somebody ought to teach this bastard some manners!" Jefferson seized him by the shoulder before he had a chance to duck away, pushing him into James Madison, who held him like a clamp. "I've been letting you slide because your sisters are cute, but it ain't worth it if you won't stay in your place."

"At least I can speak proper English," the shorter snipped, fronting to the best of his ability that the upperclassman didn't rattle or frighten him even a little as they maintained fierce, dangerous eye contact. "English isn't my first language, so what's your excuse?"

"That's it, you asked for it, _Hamilshit_."

No matter how the younger man struggled against Madison, he couldn't avoid the punch that send him buckling backwards and nearly collapsing to his knees when the momentum sent him reeling forward after being forced back. His vison was pooling with involuntary tears as his mouth filled with blood, giving him a chance to spit it right in his attacker's voice before taking two more blows, each more forceful than the last, to the stomach. He hit his knees directly thereafter and began to try and get to his feet- he'd be damned if he didn't get any licks in- but when he lifted his head, Jefferson was gone and so was Madison.

Shouting erupted from just down the hallway behind him, and turning around revealed an unmistakable bundle of curls charging after two upperclassman while screaming insults and brandishing what looked like a very thick textbook. Alexander leaned against the lockers and removed the moisture from his eyes hurriedly, the aches of being struck spreading and throbbing with no time wasted on simply being adrenaline. A few administrators came rushing past as the sound of leathery covering made harsh contact with flesh and clothes, and before he caught sight of his older sister again, a very distinct slapping sound reverberated across the rapidly filling halls and made the adopted Schuyler grin.

"He was beating up my younger brother!" Angelica was scowling and struggling to get free of the police officer that was now pulling her toward the front offices. "That piece of shit had more coming to him!"

"HEY!" Alexander barked loudly enough for the police officer to snap back around to him and all eyes shift their attention to them as well. "Let go of my sister!"

The police officer scowled and began to drag her away again, but he wasn't going to stand for anyone not treating her like the queen she was. He immediately marched up and pulled her from his steely grip, nearly taking a swing before she grabbed both of his fists firmly and essentially ran with him all the way to the principal's office. She threw open her door and shoved her brother inside, following suite and slamming it loudly before giving him a knowing look.

"You don't want to get kicked out here too," she grunted as they both caught their breath. "This school…is the best match for you. Don't let me drag you into my battles."

"You stuck up for _me_ , and that white guy on a power trip had the nerve to pull you along like a fucking doll!" Alex argued immediately.

"Now wait just a minute." The principal, who both siblings had seemingly forgot about until she was standing up with a solemn, tired expression from her desk. "I want to hear everything from the very beginning _without_ that kind of language. Both of you take a seat; I imagine that Mister Jefferson and Mister Madison will be joining us shortly."

In the end, Angelica ended up being suspended for one week while Jefferson got two for proof he began the violent exchange and Madison got in school suspension for two weeks for aiding in violence. When their father picked them both up just after the punishments had been doled out, Alex had fully expected him to go into a well-versed and emotion eliciting lecture about being an intelligent pacifist rather than a violent fighter, but he simply ruffled his eldest daughter's hair and gave him a knowing look before taking them out for a late lunch at a restaurant.

"Y'know, you didn't have to fight it for me," Alexander muttered when their Papa went to go to the bathroom as they ate. "I could've gotten those two back but good, and your flawless record would still be intact."

"Are you kidding me?" Angelica grunted softly as she draped an arm around him. "I know you could've, but that piece of shit was messing with my baby bro. It'll be a cold day in Hell before I don't at _least_ kick their ass with you if not before you! I promised you I would take care of you!"

At that moment, the thirteen year old Hamilton had the profound epiphany and acceptance of the fact that he'd never chance her mind and he would go on to be alright with that. "Well then, I suppose I can't argue for once with such sound logic."

* * *

It took twelve years of knowing his older sister to pay her back, but he was finally ready to do so.

The twenty year old Hamilton stood outside of the church sanctuary, his hands folded in front of him as he waited for her to stop arguing with her should-have-been husband. The man was a cocky young gun who flew too high for what he could compensate with, the trust fund baby of an unimpressive but wealthy snake of a businessman, but the bastard had his poor sister's heart. He'd been coerced by the woman that was essentially his twin to be polite and supportive as she made endless dates work with her own brand of magic and accepted his marriage proposition while swallowing the bitter pill he was marrying into her money, not for love or to benefit them both. It had all fallen apart on their wedding day, the day which should have been the happiest of her life, that he'd decided to leave her and eject her from their shared apartment that he'd sneakily put in his name during the honeymoon phase of their being engaged. She was giving what for now, but the tears in her voice were painful to hear and he'd just about heard enough when the piece of shit finally had the balls to walk out.

"What the fuck do you want?!" The young gun had demanded to Alexander, who simply gave a sadistic smile before seizing him by the back of his head.

"Don't worry," he snarled in his ear. "I'll _show you_."

Of course, he thought about all his big sister had done for him and their family over the years as he dragged the blasphemous man outside and gave him a rough beat down. He thought about how she'd been the first person to set him up on a date when he'd finally come out with tears in his eyes at sixteen, and how she'd all but flipped the tables of the school board at his side to ensure that same-sex couples could attend prom in an open relationship. She'd helped him with his first breakup and helped teach him how to drive, as she wasn't afraid of his riskier moves and didn't confine him to simple, methodical teaching when she was in the passenger seat. In every event he or his siblings were in, she was right beside their parents cheering and embarrassing them with all of her pride, and she'd given her blessing to their most beloved Eliza to marry her loving, doting husband, one Marquis de Lafayette, when she was too nervous to approach him about marrying one of his best friends and their parents were initially not very supportive. Time and time again she'd pulled through for every member of the family too many times to count, so Alexander felt no speck of guilt as he roughed up the man who'd shattered her heart and his own husband gathered all of her things from their apartment.

"She wants to be alone right now. I tried everything, but she simply wants nothing to do with us right now." Eliza met her at the front of the sanctuary, her own bridesmaid dress still strained under her pregnant belly and adorning stains for stress eating. "I think it's so she can grieve alone."

"I'm going to try anyway," he replied calmly before embracing his beloved Betsey. "Why don't you go find your husband? I'm sure that son of bitch is calling the cops of me, so I'm going to need you to try and diffuse those nice officers before I have to go get bailed-"

"Alexander Hamilton Schuyler, what in the world did you do?" She scolded immediately, her cheeks flush. "This is the third time we have to fish you out of the pen!"

"Trust me, this time was worth it," he assured with a mischievous grin before ducking behind the heavy wooden doors that were separating him from the woman he'd defended.

Angelica's cries were muffled despite having been alone, and it absolutely shattered his heart. Even before he got fully to her side, he could see how her eloquent dress was tangled all around her while her makeup ran off of her face and into her hands along with her tears and sorrow. The fluffy additions that were sewn to her gown were thrown all around and her boquet was destroyed at the altar, and he was hardly surprised when she immediately grabbed the one shoe left on her foot and chucked it in his direction without looking.

"Go away!" She barked furiously. "I don't want anything to do with your ass! Fuck off!"

"Jeez, is that any way to talk to your baby brother?" Alex refuted gently, for once not taking much pleasure in how quickly she filled with horror before collapsing into more sobs.

"I'm sorry!" She exclaimed in a broken tone. "Fuck, I'm sorry, Lexi. Just leave me alone, I'll be fine-"

"Of course you will," he interrupted carefully before sitting at her side. "That doesn't mean it doesn't matter now. You're one of the strongest women I know, but you're allowed to be pissed and broken up about this. I promise you don't have to be strong."

Much to his surprise, she looked him over with a long pause before burying her face into his chest and releasing the rest of her cries into him. The twenty year old sat as still as possible, his arms around her and hand gently stroking her back until she finally relaxed, which is when he chose to plant a careful kiss on her now tangled hair.

"John went and got your things from the apartment," he stated with a small smile. "And I'm probably going to jail in a few minutes, but you're welcome to stay with us while you get all your finances and shit sorted out. I know you'll be fine in a couple of weeks or something, but until then…"

"Wait, you did _what_?" His twenty one year old sister demanded before letting out an exasperated groan tinged with fondness. "God, Lexi, that fool isn't worth all the effort! Now you're going to make me pay your bail _and_ for a restraining order? You're making me grey!"

"Hey!" He protested before snuggling up to her, his head rested on hers carefully. "A long time ago, you promised you'd take care of me to the best of your ability. I'm just repaying the favor, really."

Angie's laugh was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard in that moment, with their worlds fluctuating and hers slowly trying to keep from shattering in every aspect. "Trust me, Alexander, your being here was already more than enough. Do me a favor and try to comply with the cops if they do arrest you, okay?"

"Only on one condition, sister dearest. After we're both home, I propose we burn your dress and shit in a photography sessions with Johnny; it was his idea, of course. I think you'd look fierce as hell, and who better to do it with?"

"…You've got yourself a very solid deal."


	18. Tin (Elams)

**Author Note:** Elams is a power OT3 and ever-still my favorite ship from Hamilton, what can I say? As I mentioned before, this is a late (af) present for my Smol, Amanda, who also ships this with a passion and has brought a lot of care, inspiration and love into my life since I met her.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Tin? Why _tin_?" Alexander demanded as he stared at laptop screen before him. "Aluminum is such a flimsy, cheap metal! What the hell?!"

"Do not get mad at us, _mon ami_ ," Gilbert/Lafayette said calmly from his position perched in the one-seater. "We do not make up these traditions, we just 'appen to follow them."

"Nah, I'm with Alex on this one," Hercules chimed from where he was seated directly in front of Gilbert with his back pressed against the seat that said husband was lounging in. "Out of all of the metals, why that one? It just seems lazy."

"It's insulting!" Alexander exclaimed, hands flailing exasperatedly toward the screen. "What the shit is made out of fucking _tin_ besides soda cans?!"

"Well, aluminum is extremely cheap and easy to recycle or repurpose. I think it's meant to encourage creativity," Gil remarked thoughtfully. "If it was anything heavier, nobody would ever go along with the list and the ten-year anniversary wouldn't mean much."

"Of course it would still mean much! We've been married for ten years!" The stressed husband squeaked defensively. "I want to do something special for them, not something cheap and worth jack shit in the market."

"Look! This site says that the purpose of the purpose this anniversary is show to that the married is stronger than metal and as indestructible as diamonds!" Gil exclaimed while shoving his phone close to Alexander's face. "You could do something like diamonds if you're really so against tin!"

"I'm telling you, some of these ideas on Pinterest are really cute~" Hercules drawled pointedly as he leaned closer to the clearly frazzled and stressed Hamilton. "What about this? It's something you could easily make match, and it's made with aluminum over a stronger metal."

The Frenchman of the group leaned over at once, nudging Alex encouragingly with his shoulder. "See? That looks beautiful!"

As Alexander stared at the screen, the ideas finally began to formulate in his mind and a slow smile formed across his still very red face. "…Yeah. Yeah, I like that. Thanks for your help, both of you."

"No problem, bro, but I'm not sure I like that look in your eyes…"

" _Ne t'inquiète pas, mone beb_ ," Gilbert offered kindly in response to his own love. "We are not _his_ husbands, after all~"

"Very true~"

Alex simply snapped his head up and made a face. "Rude. Now get your asses up, we're going shopping."

* * *

"Are you an' Mommy a' Daddy gonna get rewedded today?" The question of their second-to-youngest son admittedly surprised John, but not as much as it probably would have if this had been their oldest when he was Alex Jr.'s age.

"No, baby, we've been married for ten years already. We don't have to get rewed," John explained kindly to the toddler in the backseat.

"Mary saided though!" Alex Jr. exclaimed with as much vigor as his namesake would've had been told he was mistaken. "Mary saided _her_ Mommy and Daddy got rewedded!"

"That's because Mary's Mommy and Daddy got unwed first," Phillip, their second-eldest child, supplied.

A quick glance in the review mirror showed the poor four-year-old in the backseat to have his eyes wide and mouth dropped comically open. "Nu- _uh_!"

"Uh- _huh_ ," Phillip replied with a solemn nod.

"Boys, be nice," John interjected with fond exasperation. "If you two fight, we won't get ice cream."

"Yeah, Pip, shaddup!" Little Angelica immediately hissed pointedly, causing John to look into the rearview with more stern firmness as he spoke.

"That goes for you too, little girl," their Papa warned.

"We're not so little, Papa!" Eleanor, Angelica's spitfire twin, immediately countered with a rather adorable pout. "We're seven whole years old!"

"You are," John agreed with a small smile. "But you _all_ need to behave. I'm not going to be happy if you all are mean to each other with your Nana and Granddad."

"We're not going to! We never are, Papa," Frances interjected while massaging her hands across his shoulders from where she sat behind him. "You worry too much, just like Daddy!"

"Excuse me, I do _not_ worry like your Daddy!" John remarked playfully to their eldest, the product of his own genes who was somehow ten years old already. "Your Daddy definitely worries at least three times more than me!"

Alex Jr.'s eyes widened comically so again, and he sat back as though as were exhausted by a great revelation. " _Whoa_."

Immediately the car was filled with laughter, and John could not help but think about how lucky he was to be in this position with such an incredibly wonderful family. Ten years ago, he'd been able to say two very important words to two even more important people, these individuals being his loving, dedicated wife and passionate, steadfast husband. Over the course of the past decade, they'd been blessed with six children. Only two of them happened to be biologically related to him, but as the days continued, he found he cared less and less thanks to the constant and strong love he had equally for the offspring he raised as much as if they were all directly from his loins.

"Stay together, all of you!" John called as he put the minivan in park, immediately sending all of them into rapid motion to pile out. "Frances, Phillip, help the little ones!"

"We can help them!" Eleanor- Ellie, as all of them tended to refer to her- exclaimed before beginning to fumble with the straps holding the baby of the family, James, in his car seat.

"Yeah!" Angelica- Angie- chimed in, always more mild-mannered but certainly her twin's partner in crime.

"Don't hurt him!" Phillip- Pip- yelped as his sisters attempted to lift the toddler out of his constraints before he was fully undone, causing James to shriek out in protest.

"Okay, okay, everybody back up," John mediated, quickly lifting the twins out of the car beneath each of his arms and gently moving his son to the side in order to access the car seat. "Who has AJ?"

"I do," Frances replied in a similar tone to her father.

"Good," John said as he adjusted the baby on his chest. "Hold hands now, all of you!"

Alright, so maybe he wasn't the most… _natural_ with his beloved kiddos. Eliza was always the doting Mama, the one who could effortlessly give instructions and solve problems without raising her voice above a firm medium. Alexander was a busy man who didn't always spend as much time as he liked to, but he did not tend to shout to be heard either, as his natural voice was rather hard to ignore and they all deeply respected the fiery redhead enough to not disobey. John didn't doubt they respected him (most days), but he called out commands and had a much firmer disposition when he was solely in charge as opposed to being the energetic, playful parent if he was with his spouses. He wondered if the children ever took it the wrong way and hoped it not the case as the seven of them made their way toward the ice cream parlor.

"Papaaaa," AJ whined from his big sister's arms, grounding him back to reality.

"Yes, son?" He asked patiently.

"Can…can I get… _two_ pieces?" The tot inquired with his signature big eyes, a trait he'd no doubt copied from his Dad.

"Two scoops, bud," John corrected with a smile. "And because this is a special occasion…yes, you may."

"Can we?" Ellie asked excitedly as soon as he uttered the words, a notion that _definitely_ proved that she was his kiddo.

"Yes, everyone may get two scoops," he confirmed. "Except for maybe James. I think he'll be okay sharing with me."

"What sharing? You eat your ice cream like a total weirdo!" Frances replied with a playful smirk, as she was undoubtedly his other bio child.

"I still say you're the weirdo because it hurts your teeth," John responded in kind while ruffling up her ever-unruly curls.

Once all five of the children old enough had their servings and were crowded around a rather cute booth to dig in, John settled himself at a singular seater with James content to have spooned portions of melted ice cream. As he rested on his own, he couldn't help how his mind drifted to impending anxiety about the weekend getaway impending with his loves. Eliza and Alex had undoubtedly been two of the biggest blessings of his life, not only as the indescribably beloved co-parents to these kids, but as the ever-unrivaled loves of his life. Everyone in their lives knew how difficult it had been in their beginnings as a polyamorous relationship, especially when Alexander and Eliza had been a dedicated relationship since their sophomore year of high school. It had been no small act integrating John into their love and convincing him the truth being how Alexander adored both of them so completely, but once that hurdle had been cleared, it had been a gradual and rapid succession of events for he and Eliza to fall for each other during their senior year.

By the time high school graduation was upon them, the trio was fully committed to each other, and they were all wed the summer between their sophomore and junior years of college. Even after all these years, they made his heart beat wildly with the love he had for them, and he was quite stressed trying to get a gift indictive of how much he adored them. Alexander had always been the champ in showing sentiment while John was much better at compiling something more flashy or pricey, and when it came to this first major milestone in their union, the importance of what he got for each of them could not be understated in the South Carolinian's mind.

The presence of all pairs of the children's eyes on him brought him out of his haze of thought, and he raised both eyebrows in response. "What?"

"I told you he was overthinking," Frances commented pointedly, causing Pip and the twins to giggle mischievously and nod.

"You know, that sounds a lot like they want me to finish their ice cream for them, James," John replied with his eyebrows remaining raised and a smile hinting across his face. "What do you think?"

James, of course, babbled out on cue and caused his older siblings to immediately protest with varying degrees of vigor. _No matter what happens tonight,_ John thought as he fully laughed, _I know I got at least six things right._

* * *

Eliza had naturally worn her husbands' favorite dress as she awaited their arrival at the beach condo they'd rented for the next three days. The dress was a deep blue skater dress, one with white accents along the top and golden buttons that looked reminiscent of colonial military uniforms. She wore parchment tights beneath it and tied her lengthy hair up into a ponytail and had even allowed her little sisters to do the elaborate makeup adorning her face. She felt extremely confident and even more sexy as she sat on the white-and-blue striped couch within the rental, but even she had to admit her heart was pounding in a way it hadn't for any of their previous celebrations of marriage.

The sound of the traditional bridal march chiming out greeted the Hamilton wife as the front door was pushed open. Her two much adored men came walking in as one unit, their arms laced and looking positively ravishing in their smart outfits. Her Alexander was dressed in a blue blazer and white dress shirt with matching blue trousers while her John was showing off a deep blue dress shirt and white blazer/trouser combo. Their mutual dapper look was completed by the matching white and gold cravats, the very two she'd shown them two weeks prior to this in a lot of excitement, so Eliza hardly hesitated to clap and greet them each with a passionate kiss.

"You two look incredible," she gushed.

"I know you both do!" Alexander announced with a grin, lifting her up and spinning her around his arms before she could correct him.

"I have the most beautiful wife and handsome husband in the universe, I am quite positive of it," John interjected smoothly as his hands slid beneath her skirt and around Alexander's backside.

"Frisky, frisky," she tutted as though she truly minded. "Aren't you two inclined to at least eat dinner first?"

"We do have reservations," Alexander said 'ruefully', slowly setting her back to her feet and slipping his hand in John's back pocket.

"To hell with the reservations," John suggested with a playful glint in his eyes. "We can always move them, can't we?"

"As much as I wish to make you two feel nice, I had to make these plans six months in advance at the most _recent_ ," Eliza chimed in as she draped her arms around their waists. "I'd miss them for anything else, but I think Baby Ham Number Seven can wait."

As if they were synced up, the two men all against her flushed and began to stutter out protests as though they were teenagers again. Eliza couldn't help but laugh fondly and lead them out of the condo, hardly thinking to ensure the luggage near the doors had been nudged out of the way so they wouldn't trip over it on their way down. The married trio descended the walkway and she took the wheel of their sports car, partially because she was the one to drive it here while her men agreed to carpool in her sister's car and partially to heighten driving them crazy for later.

To be expected, the dinner was very good and the establishment it was in was thankfully more casual than the high reservation rate would have most anybody believe. The three of them treated themselves to their favorite alcohols and desserts, and the entire affair was full of laughter and flirtatious jest that made Eliza feel as though she were floating high on Cloud Nine. The world felt effortless on her shoulders as she wandered outside, full and dreamily hooked on the love of her spouses, and this is when one of them chose to propose his anniversary gift.

"Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, Alexander James Hamilton, you both have made me the happiest man in the universe," John announced, slowly getting down to one knee and revealing two long, slender boxes from within his blazer's inner pockets. "This anniversary is all about our marriage being stronger than…metal and tougher than diamonds, right? Well…I thought that diamonds as unique as you two are and half as beautiful…would be perfect. My Alex and my Eliza…I hope you will enjoy these pieces even a fraction of the amount I have enjoyed b-being your husband."

With his voice ending with tears of pure joy cascading down his face, John revealed two absolutely stunning necklaces, each with void black diamonds in the center that glittered against all the lights above. The chains were clearly made of nickel or silver, a gesture she found to be a wonderful choice in stead of gold. Eliza could hardly speak as she thanked him profusely and messily in tandem with Alexander, who was just as outwardly emotional as she for a change. Together they lifted the necklaces from their velvet casing, allowing John to fasten them around their necks and kiss them both so intimately that all of their tears mixed as they rolled down each of their cheeks.

"I know you've shown me up in the 'glamour' department this year, and quite possibly in every other as well," Alexander remarked fondly as they made their way back to their parked vehicle, all of their hands linked with the 'man of the hour' in the middle.

"Nonsense!" John immediately protested, especially when she nodded her concurrency. "You both always have the most amazing gifts and original ideas. These necklaces hardly hold a candle to-"

"It's not a competition, babe, and that's completely not true even if it were," Alexander gently interjected. "You're both the most intelligent people in the world, I'm sure of it! I could never compensate the glory of you two."

"I wish you both would stop putting yourselves down like that!" Eliza exclaimed before either of them could continue. "I think both of you make perfect gifts and the best union, one so impactful and significant and _good_ that I would've never thought it was real when I was a girl. You two are the loves of my life! Why would you compare these things when it's all been the best adventure of my and hopefully your lives?"

Alexander and John exchanged a look briefly, one so quick that she nearly missed it, before picking her up between their shoulders with a shocking amount of ease. She squealed in joy and shock, laughing and holding onto their shirts for dear life as they walked the rest of the way to the vehicle with her in such a funny position. Of course, it didn't help that John was nearly a head taller than Alexander, but somehow they managed to not make her flat across the parking lot in the meantime as they spoke.

"Well, she'd win even if it were a competition."

"Yes, yes, good sir, I concur!"

"What an inspiring speech!"

"And with such poise, too!"

"You're both insufferable!" Eliza shouted lovingly as she was finally lowered into the car. "Dorks. My loving, silly dorks."

"Just for you, Betsey," Alexander replied sweetly, something that made her heart flutter and her smile only grow, even as he took the wheel to go back to the condo.

The entire way back to their rented home, the passion within the car began climbing higher as John's hands gave them both attention between the legs. Once the car doors had been thrown open hastily, the world was hazy blur of dancing lights and moans as they somehow made it into the bedroom of their condo, their bodies molding to each other so easily it was hard to believe they were _ever_ not this personal with each other. When they finally reached a point of satisfaction, she felt completely wiped and extremely happy for the first time in at least two weeks. As good as their family was, having so many little ones and still wanting more was extremely hard along with all the hormones and stresses of growing children and life in general. None of that mattered now, not as she was positioned between the arms of those she vowed herself to an entire decade ago with her own around them in kind. This was why it was always all worth it- not the sex or communication or lavishness- but the pure, unfiltered _joy_.

"I want to show you what I have for you," Alexander murmured sleepily as he ran his fingers through her and John's hair with each of his hands. "Would it be okay if I got up?"

"No," she drowsily protested with the mirth evident across her face.

" _Fine_ ," John huffed with mock exasperation. "Leave us then~!"

"I'll be right back!" The redhead whined in return as he slowly untangled himself from the sheets, not bothering to dress and by extension giving the two remaining in the bed a lovely view. "Hang tight, _ma amours_."

As soon as he returned, Eliza just knew the sentimental value of whatever he held would be exceptional. After all, he _was_ holding two rectangular pieces beneath his arms that he could barely keep upright, and whatever it was had a very firm frame and wobbled metallically as the wrapping was removed. When she finally got admire the full extent of what he'd gotten, she nearly immediately covered her mouth as tears formed in her eyes. It was a large piece of tin that had what was clearly a somewhat voice recording artistically burned across it, and the translation beneath it spelled out the vows that had been recorded from their wedding video. The vows were those that Alexander had done specifically for each of them, and they were so nicely done it just sealed the deal of this being an incredible gift.

"My God, this is beautiful!" She declared as the tears ran down her face. "I love this-"

"I can't believe how nice this is. Where did you get this done?" John concurred just as emotionally as he pulled their blushing husband between them.

As Alexander explained how Gilbert and Hercules had helped him find specialty shops to do what he needed, it was fairly obvious that this night would not conclude with a lot more lovemaking and complimenting. Eliza figured it would be just as well to leave the day on the huge breakfast she'd made for the entire family and the little things she'd done for them, and to point out her gift hanging proudly on the wall in place of the canvas that the condo had come with hung up. She just knew her men would love the paintings that each of their babies had done and the stamped imprints of their hands shaped into hearts that took up the center of each of the six squares divided evenly. She also knew they'd be over the moon when she revealed the adoption papers they'd filed all those months ago had been accepted and they'd been matched with a little girl who looked like she'd fit in as naturally as their own.

Yes, all of that would be wonderful in due time, and with how things were right now, would be just as much the rest of their lives and marriage. After all, ten years was a major accomplishment, but as was affirmed more and more all the time, it was still just the beginning.


	19. Nevermore (Lafria)

**Author Note:** I literally cannot believe that I've got the privilege of typing this, but this request was done by the incredibly skilled, talented and sweet human being that is paniiny_ (on Instagram!) She is one of the most creative artists I know and have followed for months, and so for her to want little old me to write something for her? My heart, y'all. All of that to say, I hope you love it, you magnificent human, and will enjoy the other request I'll fill after a few more requests are written!

P.S. Y'all should highkey go shower her with praise on Insta! She deserves it! *-*

* * *

"I am not afraid." Standing before the looking glass, her face painted in makeup to conceal the amount she'd been crying and her clothing concealing her swollen stomach, Maria almost believed herself. "I am not afraid. I am…not afraid."

The thunderstorm overhead made the house tremble again, and her heart felt as though it clawed up her throat before landing heavily back in her gut. She gazed at herself for a moment longer before making her way back into the kitchen, another round of nausea causing her to dry heave behind her non-dominant hand as she shakily stirred the soup she'd been preparing for most of the afternoon. The kettle began to whistle, signaling her to gingerly add the boiling water to a cup with red raspberry leaves layered in. This tea had been her mother's suggestion, so it felt right to have it despite being in active labor and being in such poor condition that she could barely stand independently.

Another clap of thunder shook the walls, and it was all that she could do return to the nearest chair to brace for another round of vomiting and violent pain that made her entire body spasm temporarily. Most women, even those with even less resources than her own, usually had a neighborhood's worth of ladies at her side during this insufferable time in their lives. Unfortunately for Maria, the midwife would not arrive until she was alerted that the labor began earlier than any of them had anticipated, and there was no feasible way to contact the others in her area until the rain let up enough to make her destination clear and the roads safe enough for a laboring woman to walk on.

This wasn't the first time in her life that Maria Lewis- Maria _Reynolds_ , she reminded herself ruefully as the cramping subsided temporarily- was completely alone, but this was one of the worst times to have nobody.

"We are going to get through this together, baby," she whispered aloud as she cautiously got back to her feet. "And…and we will take it nice and slow, too. It is going to be okay. Mama's got you. Mama's got _us_."

It was time to stir the soup again. She waddled over and turned the ingredients over in the brown gravy, not bothering to wipe away her tears as she seasoned it with violently shaking hands. All she wanted to do was to lay down and let this baby take her out with it, or to stay immobile long enough for her body to work him or her from her body. If this was meant to be a natural and determination fueled process, surely her maternal instincts could operate her body for her since her brain hadn't the slightest idea on how to proceed beyond the bits she'd already gathered from strangers, friends and family alike.

"Do you think sitting in a tub would help?" She asked both herself and her unborn child as she extinguished the main fire that'd been cooking her food with. "Perhaps…perhaps it would help you make your entrance. I want you to have…to have a s-soft place…to land."

She could not possibly give up. Maria internally scolded herself for having to repeat this to herself so many times, but the pain was too overwhelming to think clearly through for longer than short bursts. The seventeen-year-old made her way to where the basin was kept, dragging it as quickly as possible toward the center of the room/an open area. Though she had to take frequent breaks to muffle sobs and screams, or simply to sit to avoid fainting, she meticulously used every pan and bucket in the tiny home to gather rainwater, boil it, and fill the tub. In between these times, she tried talking aloud to reassure both herself and her child and drank as much soup as she dared before it triggered too much nausea. By the time she'd finally gotten a hot bath ready to sit in, her shift and house gown were positively soaked in clear fluid and blood alike, but she had a place to sit with the rest of her tea and lukewarm soup.

"Do you think I should try and write to my Mama?" Maria asked the life inside her. "I want to her to know…that I loved her if…if I don't make it to see her again."

Another sharp tug at her lower body sent her doubling over, the water around her splashing as she coughed up soup and salvia alike. She shakily reached for her tea and ended up dropping the cup before she'd gotten it more than a couple of inches from the saucer. The glass container, somehow still intact, rolled away from the edge of the basin as violent sobs wretched their way from her trembling, pale lips.

She'd seen several births in the neighborhood she'd grown up in, even assisting a few midwifes in her childhood, and the laboring mothers were often instructed to quiet their 'wretched shrieking to not disturb the anxieties of those around her and who loved her'. She'd initially thought that was ridiculous, especially because she knew firsthand that a woman had a probable chance of delivering a dead baby or dying herself- but her mother insisted that she would understand when the time came for her to give her own baby life and was surrounded by 'loved ones and seeksorrows alike.' Regardless of how she'd once believed her mother, she now sat in a bath full of every fluid she could produce, and the pain/vomiting/cramping was rapidly growing more intense, and she was screaming at the top of her lungs. It was not as though anybody at all would come. Nobody cared enough to brave the conditions, and nobody loved her enough to mind even if they could be here.

It was just her. It would always just be her; abuse-soaked and loveless marriage be damned.

As she moved to rise from her position in the basin, the idea entered her mind to check the progress of the birth by reaching her hand down. When her fingertips made contact with something rounded and terribly soft, she instinctually jerked away and let out a howl of both panic and agony. There was no possibility of this foreign texture being anything other than her baby's head, and with that in mind, she knew there was no more time for mourning and insecurity. The only thing left to do was to birth this child and pray God gave mercy in granting them both a new, better life.

Maria pushed. She held her stomach tightly so she knew it wouldn't burst while she heaved continuously, her head dizzy from the short and rapid gasps that were peppered with shrieks. The agony spidered from the source in blazing-hot, furious tendrils, their trails igniting every nerve in her body while veins bulged anywhere that tightened with the tremendous effort. Her brain felt as though it were covered in a thick fog, the misery of birth crackling through it like lightning as she desperately tried to concentrate. There was blood and things she couldn't identify in the water, and every time she felt completely spent beyond capability to continue, her body proved the notion wrong. This was either how she was going to die or how she was going to nearly escape it. There felt as though there could be nothing more than this pain, this soul-shattering torment that only vaguely promised the best-case scenario.

And then it was over.

A final shudder went through her entire being before she collapsed backwards, her arms hardly strong enough to lift the biproduct of this personal Hell from the horrendously dirty water. For a few minutes, there was only the ringing and pounding in her head as the aftershocks coursed through her body. Something else was ejected from within her, but when she reached after it with the weaker arm, she was relieved to find it was not another baby; simply the afterbirth. Her heartbeat slowly returned back to its usual rhythm as lights danced across her vision, and she closed her eyes against the disorientation that caused sleep to beckon her while all else seemed impossible.

What finally brought her back was the screaming of the tiny, dirty and shaking little life on her chest. The baby was completely helpless and exposed, and there was nobody else to tend to it. It was disgustingly stained and covered from the delivery, and its eyes weren't even open yet as it shrieked miserably against her skin. It was so dependent on her in every aspect of the word, and only her.

The baby. Her baby. Not James's, even if he was the one who'd impregnated her. Not the neighborhood or world that could not or did not find her in her most desperate hours. Not even her mother's, even if she'd considered simply surrendering the child to her care in order to focus on her own survival around her spouse. This infant was hers, and nobody could deny her of that.

"H-hello…hello there, l-little one…" Maria mumbled lethargically against the matted hair beneath her own chin. "I…I've got you. It's okay…Mommy's got you. Mommy's here."

Much to her surprise, the infant quieted as she began speaking. The newly realized mother carefully adjusted the baby in her arms, verifying that her child was a girl before they looked into each other's eyes for the first time. Her daughter, no matter how uncomfortable she must be in the mess of her own birth and how she trembled, was now watching _her-_ her mother- instead of weeping and screaming her lament. As Maria studied the newborn that she'd solely delivered into a world of mayhem and heartbreak, she knew that this child's wellbeing and happiness was going to be the only thing that mattered to her going forward. Her own sacrifices be damned; this tiny baby was all the proof that the seventeen-year-old needed that she had purpose, and that purpose was to be the best caretaker, advocate, nurturer, and mother she could manage to be for her daughter as well as whatever was beyond that.

"I think…Well, Mommy made quite a mess in here," Maria mumbled thoughtfully to her little girl. "Let's…let's get cleaned up and get you some food. You're alright now. It's alright."

By the time she'd done all she could manage without throwing up what little remained in her stomach or fainting, the storm overhead was audibly retreating. Maria settled herself in her bed and finished nursing her infant until said baby had fallen asleep. Once she'd settled her swaddled daughter against as many pillows as she could find, the young mother rested fully against the mattress and racked her brain for a name fitting of the beautiful life before her. Nothing that her husband had wanted sounded decent- Margaret belonged to too many cruel ladies in her life, Deliverance wasn't catchy, Prudence sounded bland- but there was one individual she'd be willing to name her child after, even after all that'd been unideal between the two of them. Maria was not ashamed to acknowledge the fact that she was a 'mommy's girl,' and to hope desperately that the same would transpire between herself and her little girl.

Still, the name Susanna seemed a bit too traditional to suit a child that did not come into her life how she would have been expected to. Perhaps she ought to shorten it to 'Anna', but that wasn't indicative enough of her reasoning. 'Susan' was her other option, and the more she thought about it, the better it sounded to her.

Susan. _Her_ baby. Maria leaned down to kiss her forehead, her eyes moist with tears as her heart seemed to grow with the warmth of a love purer than she could've ever expected. "I promise that you will have a better life than me, my little Susan. Mommy loves you…She loves you so, so much, and you may well be the only one who can have my heart this completely, but that will be just fine. I swear to you…you will never walk alone as I have. We will never be alone…never again."

* * *

When the time came again for another new life to enter the world, Maria was far more prepared.

For one, she set out the basin and made sure to stock plenty of towels beside it for the inevitable moment she began labor. She set aside various types of tea leaves to be thrown in the kettle, and even thought to prepare a medical kit for the attention she'd have to give to herself once the baby was born. Unlike with her first pregnancy, she'd been regularly visiting a doctor and got a well-respected midwife prepared to come in a moments' notice. All of this was possible thanks to her new husband, a gentleman named Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette (but she called him variants of 'Gilbert')- that was as absolutely smitten with her as she was with him. In their very happy, consensual union, she'd been given a stepson, a bright young man named Georges who was born from her Gilbert's late wife.

Admittedly, she'd been petrified to get close to both the man she'd eventually call her husband and then to parent Georges, and her Susan had been even more reluctant to bond with them. Regardless of all of the hardships, they'd all been a family for nearly two and a half years now and could not be more tightly knit. It was only for Gilbert that Maria would ever wish to have more children of their own with, and now she was practically bursting with the life they'd made together. As much as she was immensely grateful for the family she now had, she was completely confident that nobody would want to be present during such an unpleasant, dangerous and terrifying period. She was also confident that she would be much more capable in her older age to deliver independently, and that she would be relieved but successful when she was able to introduce everyone to their baby/baby sibling.

"Mama?" Susan hovered in the doorframe now as Maria worked on finishing the sewing for another handmade gown for the new baby.

"Yes, angel?" Maria looked up with a patient smile, shifting her project off to the side so she could open her arm in offering for her daughter.

Susan quickly complied, walking over and tucking herself carefully around both the sewing and her mother's massive, swollen belly. "When is the baby going to be here? We've been waiting for a really long time…I want to meet her soon, please."

"I promise that they'll be here soon," Maria said with a fond chuckle. "But I can't control when it is, I'm afraid. How do you figure that your new sibling will be a girl?"

Susan's eyes sparkled, something that sent a surge of fondness through her mother's heart. "Georges and I both think it, so it might be true! It might be, right Mama?"

"It might indeed," Maria confirmed gently.

After a few more minutes of pleasant conversation with her firstborn, Maria announced that she ought to prepare to retrieve groceries from the market if she was going to complete that task today. Susan was just sliding off of her lap carefully when her stomach clenched abruptly, the cramping feeling as though a tightly gripped fist was turning it in a circular motion. The twenty-nine-year-old inhaled sharply and braced herself against her seat, her eyes automatically closing to prevent tears from spilling out while her daughter gripped onto her arm in concern. The constricting simultaneously gave way with the unmistakable dampening of her undergarments and gown, so the newly induced mother wasted no time in hoisting herself to her feet and quickly kissing her rather concerned daughter on the forehead.

"It's time!" She told her child with a reassuring smile. "Will you go tell the midwife for me while I get prepared?"

The concerned, anxious expression Susan held was quickly replaced with one of excitement. "Yes, Mama!"

As her firstborn ran to the front door, Maria began to undress as much as possible to still be in polite company. She also began to boil the first container of water to start putting in the bath before finally relieving herself of the maternity corset that was beginning to feel just as bad as a regular one. The contractions seemed to get worse the longer and longer she stood and tried to get ready for another lonely, terrifying delivery, and by the time she finally gave up both tasks after making two cups of tea and filling the tub halfway, the bursts of rapid cramps were terribly close together. It was all she could do to begin lifting herself into the basin, but before she could settle, the main door swung open once more and the midwife and her daughter alike came hustling back inside.

"Mrs. de Lafayette!" The midwife, a lovely, aged woman named Henrietta Kalstein, was already exclaiming as she hauled her massive medical bag in behind her. "Mrs. de Lafayette, kindly allow me to assist you! You ought not to be doing such intense activity before your birth!"

"I appreciate your concerns, but this is practically the manner that I delivered my Susan within," Maria protested weakly as she was forced to pause her climb within the tub. "I will gladly take suggestions, but my husband is the man who hired you for this occasion out of his own concern."

"I've delivered a lot of babies in my day, girl," Henrietta said firmly as she approached her side. "Here now, take my arms and allow me to guide you. See? The position you would more naturally settle in can constrict your baby's head. There, that is much more correct! Excellent, and many thanks for your compliance, ma'am."

Listening to the instruction of a punctual midwife was odd, but the expecting mother could not protest the advice that Henrietta was giving as well as the various natural seasonings she added to bread and tea in order to settle her stomach. Maria was enjoying the raspberry-leaf tea that her mother had suggested for her first pregnancy when the front door opened once more, and in came pouring it two ladies from the neighborhood along with their young children, her stepson Georges, and her loving husband, Gilbert. Her cheeks immediately blossomed with color, and she began to sit up as much as possible while beginning to smooth her very thin clothing back over her currently exposed legs and most intimate areas.

"No, no, this is not for young men and babies to see!" Henrietta exclaimed at once. "Please settle them in the foyer area! For the adults, you may remain, but only at Mrs. de Lafayette's request!"

"Th-they can stay," Maria said despite her bewilderment at having so _many_ turning up for this occasion. "And please, ma'am, just refer to me as 'Maria.' I am proud to be the wife of my husband, but I am not anyone to refer to so politely toward."

"Oh my Heavens, you poor thing! You must be positively chilled!" One of the neighborhood wives exclaimed as she ushered the children (aside from Susan, who was deemed old enough to witness this process,) into the proper room. "Somebody go fetch her more heated water to cover her! She needs a proper pool to remain warm!"

The other woman, a nearly complete stranger to the laboring wife, quickly took to the kitchen to fulfill the command. Maria felt as though she were out of her own body, watching on in complete detachment to the buzzing activity around, especially as her husband came to her side and clasped her hand in his own. He was murmuring something in her ear; he even kissed her cheek, but it all felt foreign and surreal. She was expecting something so completely opposite of this, and though she'd known this is what her mother had once promised for all of the deliveries she'd have, she felt strangely powerless in the position she'd been slotted into despite how utterly overwhelming, brutal and miserable the alternative was.

" _Ma bebe."_ Gilbert's voice was deep and gentle in her ear as his hot breath helped ground her back to the present. "I understand if you are frightened by all that is happening. This is a very intense process to go through, and for all that a woman must go through to deliver new life into the world, I am grateful I am not one. However, I know that you are the most strong, component lady I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, and I know you will undoubtedly pull through this with the same strength with which you have overcome so much else. I am going to be by your side the entire time, and I am at your disposal, _ma petit chou_. Just give me your needs and they shall be done to the very best of my capability. I love you so completely."

"I-if…if you trust that I w-will do well…Why hire this help?" Maria asked shakily as tears of both pain and wounded feelings surfaced.

Gilbert's face creased with concern at once. "What are you talking about, my love? A midwife is customary for an expectant woman, no?"

"I…I delivered Susan alone. The storm prevented my hired from turning up on site, and I certainly had no neighbors braving the weather," Maria said quietly as another surge of pain caused her to reposition into the position instructed by Henrietta. "I…I can handle this…You didn't have to spend so much mon-"

"This is not a question of your competence!" Gilbert interjected. "And it is hardly a question of finances! Please, my darling, I must have you know this is simply to ensure you are a comfortable and confident as possible."

"Okay, but you did not have to go through the hassle of requesting of neighbors visit," she said with a grunt.

"I did not employ them in this way. This was completely of their own desire," Gilbert said in a tired, slightly wounded tone. "Why do you think that people caring for you is fabrication? Do you not have faith in me?"

"I do have faith-!" Maria exclaimed before a sharp wail of pain cut her off temporarily. "I do! I do have faith in you! I know the things you'd do for me, and that is why I f-figured!"

"I would do anything for you, but if I were to have planned this to the very detail, it would only be the three of us here." Her loving husband brought her hand close to his heart, kissing her knuckles even as her grip more than likely began making him lose feeling in his own. "I am happy as long as you are, baby. If you wish for more privacy, I will make it so."

Despite all of the agony and physical exertion, Maria closed her eyes tightly and tried to focus on what she wanted. Even if doing this with no other would be comforting and familiar, it would undoubtedly be more dangerous; it was a miracle they both survived the first time. Having the midwife, Gilbert and Susan felt right, but the neighbors were being so courteous and helpful already. Lord knew that she was endlessly frustrated at being referenced as a simple battered wife who was incapacitated and helpless, but she did have a very strong intuition that this was hardly why those who were here came. Perhaps those around her really had no other reason to be around than their own compassion for her and her family. Perhaps it was finally time to let go of yet another part of her that was finally freeing itself from so many torturous years with Reynolds.

"I…I am grateful for them. I need them to say," the laboring woman finally declared as tears of effort began streaming down her face. "Dear _God_!"

Gilbert continued to hold her hand securely as she was fussed over by the trio of women, and she found herself focusing on the touch of her loving, beloved spouse made the unavoidable less intense at all times. It hardly seemed that much time had gone before somebody announced that the baby was crowning, and Maria found herself braced against both her midwife and her spouse as she screamed out incoherent sobs and profanities. The fire-filled torment didn't seem to end for a least a century, not even as a shrill cry pierced through her own and her body naturally collapsed back fully into the water. At once she was lifted back up, her hair wrung out and face cleaned along with her upper body while Susan rushed to grab more blankets and towels.

"Praise God, my Marie, praise God!" Gilbert was whispering in her ear, his voice a soft and comforting rumble that helped her disregard the ringing and pounding in her head. "Praise God, _ma amoure._ She is beautiful…So very, very _magnifique_."

"It's…it's a girl?" Maria finally managed to ask with her eyes shut against tears and lights dancing in her vision.

"A very pretty little girl, as a matter of fact! Just like her mother!" Henrietta declared before placing a swaddled bundle across the parent in question. "Congratulations, Mama. You did wonderful."

The pain slowly began to numb as she was given various medicines and had to drink things that tasted very natural and slightly sweet. Gilbert even carefully carried the two of them to their bed at one time, his hands so delicate and conscious that she only began to cry in affectionate gratitude. As for the baby, she shrieked, fussed, and cried until Maria was able to talk softly to her for a while. Unlike her Susan, who'd come out with very light blonde hair and bright blue eyes, this baby's hair was dark, and her eyes were a softer, less intense blue. She was gorgeous despite the aftermath of an intense but quick birth, and she couldn't help but be reminded how unconditional and powerful her love for her children was, even if she already had two fantastic children.

"I cannot believe it," Gilbert whispered as he sat beside her, watching each move as theirs as the baby was finally adjusted to be breastfed. "I knew that she would undoubtedly be as gorgeous as her mama and sister, but she is even more than I could have ever imagined. She is perfect, absolutely perfect."

"She is," Maria echoed with warmth and confidence. "She truly is. _Our_ baby, Gilly. Ours."

"Have you decided on a name for her?" He asked in her ear softly. The two of them had considered and debated first names for both genders for the two months leading up to this day, and while they'd compiled the formal middle names together regardless of the gender, he'd insisted that she had the right to make the final decision from the list they'd compiled on the first name.

"Yes, I have," she said with the most confidence she'd had all day. "Her first name is Adrienne."

He immediately pulled away from her, his eyes shining with tears as he looked to her fully. "Really? You would really like to call her that, my love? It is not just a cutesy to me and Georges?"

"Of course I want it for both of you, but I do genuinely want that name for this baby," Maria insisted with a sleepy smile. "I think it is a beautiful addition to our family, and a very important way to the woman who loved you so dearly before myself. Our Georges, our Susan, and now our baby, Adrienne. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

With a few tears releasing themselves from his eyes, both of which were so full of his constant adoration and infectious joy, Gilbert took her back in his arms and softly kissed her, then the top of their angel's head. "Yes, of course. I absolutely do. It's perfect."

It was not long after their two older children had eagerly met their baby sister that sleep overtook both Adrienne and Maria. When the mother woke to feed the newborn again, she found herself to be the only other one awake, but for her husband and both children to be in the same bed in their deep sleeps. The sight was worthy of a portrait, but since she could not possibly capture it in this exact moment, she smiled so widely her face hurt before she began to rock and soothe Adrienne, who was beginning to fuss.

"Shhh…" Maria cooed softly, as not to wake the rest of the family. "It's okay now. I promise that you are going to have a very exciting, love-filled life here, my sweet baby. Mommy and Papa and Big Brother and Big Sister love you so, so very much, more than we can ever say fully. You will never have to wonder to find your way, not like I did for so many years, because you have a family completely dedicated to your success and happiness. Neither of us will ever be alone, my little Adrienne. Never again."

* * *

 **Author Note** : Remember, requests are open! You can comment them here, or send them to the Tumblr I use for most of my stories, which is stainedflowerproductions ! As always, don't forget to leave kudos/bookmark/subscribe/leave a comment if it so compels you!

P.S. Look out for my profile for my long-awaited writing schedule (which will be posted very very very soon!)


	20. Sunlight (Laflams)

**Author Note:** 1\. Hello again to all of you lovely humans! I am so excited and nervous to share this EXTRAORDINARILY angsty chapter with you all. I am very sorry in advance.

2\. This is request that I did for my beloved bbg, Sydnee! Sydnee, I adore you so much, and I'm so proud and privileged to be a part of your life. You're wonderful and don't have to be perfect to be worthy of all the love you receive and tons more than that, so please, be gentle with yourself. I'm always on your side/in your corner!

3\. Please head these MAJOR, MAJOR Trigger Warnings: Major character death/murder, violence, depression, suicidal thoughts and acts.

4\. See the end of this chapter for my upload schedule, which will also be available on my profile!

* * *

 **Prompt credit to prompting-writer on Tumblr. Prompts 1 and 2 from 5.**

Outside, the sun rose gradually in the sky, just as it did every single day. Inside the walls of a house converted specifically to contain high-ranking prisoners of war, access to the sunlight was scarce and far between. The only real view of it came through the miniscule slats designed within the slated bars covering the windows, and even that was only when sunrise or sunset positioned the angle to be just so. Deprivation of such a constant variable in one's life would begin to get to anyone after a while, and it had fully manifested into an obsession for one such trapped soldier.

"Hey. _Hey_ ," John Laurens whispered urgently to his two cell mates, the other two young men whom he entrusted his life to more than any other on the planet. "Look! It's nearly time now. I have a feeling…that this one is going to be special."

"You say that every morning, _mon amour_ ," the young man who the other two alternatively referred to as 'Lafayette' or variants of 'Gilbert' mumbled lethargically.

"And every evening," the third man- Alexander, or simply 'Alex' to them, grumbled in a similar tone.

"They _are_ special!" John- they called him different versions of this name, and only they had the privilege of referring to him as 'Jackie' additionally- insisted. "Every single one is different than the other, and they're always ready when the working day is new. It's remarkable! I can't believe I once took it for granted."

"You won't always have to regret that," Gilbert reminded lethargically, his head rousing ever-so slightly from where it'd been lolled over onto his pillows. "We will be free very soon. In the meantime, come back to bed."

"I want to see it!" John said with offense lacing his words. "I want to see it every single time I can until I can feel it on my face, damnit!"

"Okay, okay!" Alex exclaimed huskily, his own form raising up from behind their mutually beloved boyfriend. "Have fun with that, Jackie, but return to us when the lights have moved higher. I am cold without your embrace to warm me."

"How lovely it is to know that my arms are less suitable," Gilbert grumbled sarcastically as he burrowed his face into the bed.

"Baby," Alex whined immediately. "Surely you know that isn't the case!"

"It's here!" John exclaimed abruptly; his bodily details were masked by the somewhat permanent darkness of the room as he repositioned himself. "Look! I told you this one was special; it's gorgeous!"

Possibly against their better judgement, the other two lovers in this captivity chamber roused themselves enough to watch what their partner was on about. The sunlight patches were indeed fairly pretty, the amount of sheer light was even more than what was usually anticipated for early morning. Its presence alone was admittedly treasured by all three of them, even if John was the most outspoken and hyper fixated on it. It proved that there was still a world amid their suffering and isolation, and that it was continuing as they waited for their commanders to make the trade for their freedom.

Once the patches slowly worked their way into slivers, then disappeared, Alex tried once more to get his secret boyfriend to cooperate. "Come back to bed now, dear. You will have your chance again at sundown."

Though he sighed softly, John complied to his request by carefully climbing over his two lethargic lovers and settling himself back against Alex's left side. "I long for the days of freedom ahead, men. I feel as though I've lost what little sanity that remained about me before this imprisonment."

"We will not remain here much longer," Gilbert said softly, rolling over to caress the blonde's face with his fingertips while spooning Alexander. "I will see to it personally that we do not if I must."

"And how do you reckon you'd do that? We have no real authority here, and I am not interested in our circumstances becoming more severe," John said dubiously.

"The lobsters may be bastards, but they're not all idiots," Gilbert pointed out pragmatically. "If we begin to rapidly cause deterioration to ourselves, it looks poorly upon them, and then an act of revenge will surely be executed by our men in response. They are much more likely to return us to our rightful armies before they will want to deal with the blame for starving, filthy, sodden soldiers."

"I admit that you have a point." John conceded. "But that could easily just be wishful thinking. Hell, I would even say you're borderline giving them too much credit!"

"My strategies are typically sounder once I've rested," Gil retorted now.

"Shh!" Alexander interjected in a rare spoken act of affection and non-confrontational rationality. "Shhh, my babies. We all need to rest our weary minds and bodies while we are consistently able. These arguments and concerns are not for infighting."

Thankfully, both men mumbled their ascent and nestled further into him, each other, and the cots that they'd previously pushed together in order to sleep together. When they all roused properly, Gilbert began to make breakfast from the meager supplies they had while John and Alex took turns combing each other's hair and tending to their morning 'afflictions'. Once the food was prepared, they did the same for their favorite Frenchman before they all sat together, nearly nude and almost content in their sleepiness, and ate.

"It is nearly a fortnight that we've been here," Alex commented as he cleaned off the dishes they'd been allowed to keep from their usual soldier equipment.

"Huzzah," Gilbert replied with no real venom.

"And may today be the conclusion of our need to keep track of how long we've been away from murdering the bastards who did this to us!" John chimed in enthusiastically, earning him two chaste kisses and agreements.

The trio hadn't been particularly easy to capture, as one might imagine. They'd been doing a mission in order to re-secure one of their posts and liberate the prisoners therein in South Carolina when John was shot in the abdomen. Naturally, Alex had rushed to his side and was getting him out of the line of fire, but his stallion was killed from beneath him and the two of them were surrounded before they could flee on foot. Their darling Gilbert had been part of an eight-man rescue mission, but their party had a Loyalist traitor who showed his true colors when they reached the site and helped capture nearly every individual who was trying to save their fellow Patriots. Thanks to his high ranking being equivalent to the two who happened to be his secret lovers, they'd been housed together in this one room house-turned-compound in a secluded area of the woodland. The inability to escape was maddening and the resources they had were scarce, but they were all grateful to the good Lord above for giving them each other.

"Are you writing another journal entry already?" John teased Alex fondly as the redhead retrieved a slip of parchment from the modest stack they'd made by combining what they'd found in the home and had on their persons.

"I must write everything down! What if we were to not make it out of here?" Alex exclaimed as a light blush ignited his cheeks.

"Do not talk like that, _mon cher._ Of course we will make it out of here!" Gilbert said quickly as he pulled a worn book from the minimalistic bookshelf. "Why would we not? We are much too valuable to be left for dead."

"Well then…I shall do this for historic purposes, and for when we reflect on this in our older age," Alex justified as he prepared one of his quills.

"You are allowed to simply write it for your own purposes of pleasure, you know," John pointed out with a fond, albeit mischievous, grin.

The redness blossomed further on Alex's face as he threw his resealed pot of ink at his taunting beloved partner. "Shut your accusations, I do not gain arousal from my writings!"

"You really do write like you're running out of time~" Gilbert joined in good naturedly. "Perhaps you do, and you are in denial? Need I remind you that Jackie and I both have been covered in your words while we make love?"

"That has nothing to do with what I do outside of the bedroom!" Alex protested in a whine. "You both have turned on me, I swear it! The betrayal!"

"We must entertain ourselves some way! Do not take it so personally!" John said with a fond laugh, his arms making his way around his now pouting lover as the other man snuggled round from behind John to hold Alexander as well.

"You are both insufferable!" Alex grumbled with just as much love in his voice, leaning into their embraces and resting his arms over both of theirs.

The three men remained like that for as long as they possibly could. When the sounds of the heavy bolts and heavy planks began to rattle the thick wooden door, they quickly disbanded from their comfortable position and hurried to different locations across the room. In a different world, perhaps they wouldn't have to be so careful and paranoid about who they were in relation to each other. Anyone who'd lived through the most difficult situations or the led the most indulgent of lives had seen that men loving men (or women loving women) was just as prevalent as the officially sanctioned matrimonies between men and women to each other. That did not make sodomy any less illegal, and while it would result in public ostracization and a lot of violence if not life imprisonment within the colonies, the lobsters would have no problem hanging or shooting a man on sight under the mere suspicion of these acts. The three of them absolutely had to keep their relationship confidential, especially here, and that was as crucial to their survival as it was enraging to think about.

"Look alive, ladies!" The very Loyalist who'd betrayed the rescue mission that Gilbert had been on, a smarmy man named Jedidiah Ingles, shouted as he marched into the house with three heavily armed redcoats behind him. "How did you sleep?! The boys and I have a bet that you all couldn't rest for hours thanks to the work we did to your little friends~"

" _Excuse_ me?" Alex demanded tersely from where he now sat in a chair paired with their small dining table. "And what exactly did you do to our men?"

"Well, I can certainly tell you that a couple of them were able to be… _persuaded_ over to our side," Jedidiah gloated with a disgustingly wide grin. "Are you sure that you lot don't want to join them now and save your skin from the same treatment? This is a very generous offer, boys; don't be too naïve or too proud to decline my kindness."

"Go to hell," Gilbert retorted sharply while raising to his full height from where he'd been on the sofa. "You would not dare lay your hands upon Washington's aide-de-camps. You know that this will only secure your demise as well as countless of the men you associate with."

Jedidiah snorted at once and pulled a pistol from his belt, toying with the trigger as he made an unsettling amount of eye contact with the French immigrant. "I infiltrated his army without even breaking a sweat and captured you three idiots like you were children. I'm not afraid of that so-called commander of yours in the slightest."

"I would like to see you say something like that to his face," Alex retorted. "I look forward to your being forced to swallow your pride when he sets this operation on fire."

"You have been treating us by our rankings so far because you are not naïve or 'too proud' to neglect the consequences of your actions becoming severe," John added with a condescending scoff of his own. "You may have fooled us once before, but the quality at which you blatantly fire mistruths is now hardly that above an infant's level. Save me your laughable attempts."

The Loyalist bastard scowled now along with one of Redcoats behind him, and another one of them audibly clicked his shotgun's ammunition into place. The three prisoners naturally tensed as they got to their feet, their eyes sharp with concentration and righteous fury as the silent dare hung thick in the room. The trio may not have anything viable to defend themselves with as far as typical weapons, but they did have their pots from their packs as well as other heavy household objects, and Gilbert had managed to smuggle a foldable knife in by strapping it to his inner thigh before the disastrous rescue attempt began.

All seven of the men stood almost perfectly still for moments that felt like hours before the one with the loaded ammunition set his gun off to one side, signaling his obvious intent not to fire with one of their old-fashioned British gestures. The Patriotic trio slowly lowered their own makeshift weapons and concealed real weapon alike, their eyes never leaving the enemies until everyone's hands were away from their dangerous tools.

"You son of a bitches are lucky you have smart men on your side who can see reason," Jedidiah hissed angrily. "I don't care if I have to kill every single one of you to get that backwards motherfucker here. I tire of these childish threats and allowing you to use our resources."

Alexander scowled and tossed his hair back over his shoulder from where it clung to his forehead thanks to the amount he was sweating. "The whole lot of you are traitors who can burn in the next building that we burn down from' your' king. You may have resources and strategy, but you won't win this war. You turn your head to ringing of independence, but it is calling more urgently day by day. Tell me, men- if I can truly refer to you as such- do you enjoy falling to your knees in desperation? Because the way you'll be knocked from the rotting throne of your damned king, you aren't going to have so much as a pot to piss in."

The tension in the room snapped, sucking the air from everyone's lungs as the ends slapped against their faces. One of the redcoats drew his pistol and fired toward the back wall, but the timing was too hasty. Gilbert had been drawing his knife again for protection, in doing so lifting his arm and putting it in the direct path of the bullet. The agony of its impact made him cry out and stumble back, the knife forgotten as his sudden scream caused the trigger to be pulled again. The French immigrant stood perfectly upright and still for just a few moments before sinking to the floor, the blood pouring from his right thigh immediately as he slumped helplessly to the floorboards.

"YOU BASTARDS!" John roared first, lunging forward and snatching Jedidiah from where his smug, confident position had turned pale-faced and quivering. "YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!"

"Unhand me, unhand me!" The Loyalist gasped desperately as he was slammed cruelly against the nearest wall. "PLEASE! We will give him treatment, he will live! We will reach out to Washington ourselves, so long as you release me! BE REASONABLE, YOU SHIT!"

"Let the bastard go!" Alex's voice was shaky with emotion now, but his tone was still unavoidable as he held their shaking Frenchman in his arms. "This whole affair will be for nothing and his blood will only stain your hands for nothing!"

If it weren't for the pleas of one of the only people he was sure he loved unconditionally, John would gladly bash this traitorous man's head in until his brain covered the floor. As these requests of his distressed love reached his heart, though, the cries of the man he had pinned reached his head fully. They would see to it that he and Alexander, now bent on vengeance for their potentially fatally wounded companion, were off of their hands as soon as possible. They'd also save Gilbert if the situation was that dire. Against what he so desperately wanted to do, John released Jedidiah and stepped away with a scowl.

"Get the doctor in here, you insolent fucker," he clipped.

Jedidiah scrambled to comply, but he promptly fell face-down against their cots and rolled off the side of them. He was still for moment, but when he rose back to his feet, he had a disbelieving expression adorning his face.

"Why are all of these beds together?" The Loyalist asked with his voice tight like a cable wire. "Why are these beds together in the middle of summer, men?!"

"Wouldn't you like to know, fucker," John spit angrily. "Get your God-forsaken doctor, damnit!"

"I can think of no viable reason for these beds to be together like this! And the sheets entangled?!" Jedidiah said loudly, snatching the sheets up before throwing them back down harshly. "What have you three been up to in here?! Surely not committing sodomy!"

"That's fucking disgusting and you have no proof to your wild accusations, you idiot!" Alex hissed furiously. "Though it is _very_ interesting that your mind would go to something so deplorable!"

The look on their enemy's face was impossible to read. "You three are shit stains on society. You'd be killed for less than solid speculation in your little rebellion."

"We aren't criminals of anything of the sort. We are all engaged to be wed!" John snarled. "Get the hell out before we put your dumb ass out of its misery!"

"Engaged to be wed, eh?" Jedidiah paused for a long moment before striding over to Alexander, seizing the man's hair and lifting him up to be level with the pistol he'd just drawn. "Infidelity as well as sodomy, all under the guise of rebellion. I am doing you sinners a favor by stifling you before God's divine wrath reaches you."

John did not have time to move before the shot went off. He didn't even have time to scream before Alexander's body hit the ground, slouched forward limply as crimson liquid began seeping through his already ginger hair. He was only set in motion by the cry of his Gilbert, his terribly injured and possibly dying Gilbert, which was so anguished and horrified it sent his heart back into motion. He felt as though he was in another man's body as he charged forward, snatching Jedidiah by the neck and slamming him into a chokehold against the back wall. He hardly registered the gun in his own hand as he fired off the rest of the round into the murderer's head. The force of being thrown off to the side thereafter knocked the air from his lungs, but he was still unaware of how he himself screamed and sobbed until the heavy door was slammed and he was alone with his two loves; one alive, one dead.

"ALEXANDER!" He shrieked desperately as he was finally yanked back into conscious reality. " _ALEXANDER_!"

Alex's beautiful face was intact aside from the gaping hole in his forehead, which was just beneath his hairline and almost directly above the in-between of his eyes. His eyes, his gorgeous eyes, stared up ahead blankly, already hazy with the absence of activity. His Gilbert was sobbing harshly, his body covered in so much blood that it was hard to tell what was his own as he gripped Alex's limp hand, kissing it over and over. John let out a scream mangled with unfiltered rage and the worst grief he'd felt since his baby brother's premature death. He did this again and again and again as he fell over his darling love's corpse, his hand gripping the other lifeless one that was horribly sticky with blood, his own tears mixed in with all carnage and streaming like rainfall.

The sunshine was hidden from view that night.

* * *

It had been nearly a week since Alexander's murder. The redcoats had not returned to their holding or provided any fresh water or food, so the two remaining Patriots had to ration what little they had just to get by. Without medical attention, Gilbert's wounds had to be bound in tourniquets and had become horribly infected, and he'd been battling a fierce fever since the last day's sundown.

"Do you think they will bury him properly?" Gilbert mumbled lethargically as he struggled to down a few crackers. "When they find us?"

"Of course they will. He was no common soldier, and he will be given to his Eliza," John replied in a voice still thick with his mourning. "They were wed, after all. I believe she is pregnant with his child, too."

"My God…" Gilbert whispered as his bright blue eyes grew wet with tears. " _Mon Dieu,_ John."

"We will comfort his widow," John said with a small smile of reassurance, his hand reaching up to brush away the living ginger's grimy hair. "We will do it together. We all loved him deeply and truly."

"I…I will make sure he knows," the Frenchman said with the first smile he'd had since the hours leading to their boyfriend's death. "I will…when I see him again."

"So will I, baby, so will I," John whispered as he placed a kiss on his darling's forehead. "But that won't be soon. It won't be soon because we're getting out of here."

" _Mon plus tendre amour_ …" Gilbert grimaced and let out a small gasp of agony, his head lolling back against his lover's lap. "Do not delude yourself. I am…I am all but faded away, _mon chou._ "

Of course, the older soldier could recognize this just as clearly as his own state being in rapid deterioration. He was permanently exhausted and overheated, and he was beginning to question if the things he saw were real or figment. For example, sometimes his dear Frenchman's wounds looked green, and other times they were red and white, and sometimes they were blue. His ribs looked like they protruded out of his chest half of the time, and the other half of the time they looked and felt like he was morbidly obese. He was almost fully convinced his head was made of cotton and soiled napkins.

"You can't leave me too, baby…" John whispered. "I can't lose you. You're the only thing I have left to live for."

"That isn't true!" Gilbert's voice trembled and broke as he barked out a sound kind of like a laugh. "That…that is…no. No, my Jackie. You have…a fiancé, a-and…and a baby of your own. You…I want you to live for th-them."

"I cannot live for someone who I do not love and someone who I haven't met!" John cried, the sound of grief that he choked out being something that began at the base of his gut and clawed through his throat. "Gilbert! Gilbert, _I need you_. I cannot possibly fathom a world w-without…with-without _both_ of the only two people I've wanted to marry for years."

"Johnny, you must. Do it…for us," Gilbert said desperately as the few tears he could produce slipped down his face. "For us. For…us…please."

"Gilly, I'm not strong enough, damnit!" John choked out, throwing himself down against the other dying man with all the strength and passion he had left. "Gilbert! Baby! Baby, please! I know it's selfish… but I cannot do this alone! Don't leave me alone! I'm not ready! Fuck, I'm not _ready_!"

"I can see him now, Jackie." For the first time since they were abandoned by their enemies and their mutual lover was ripped away from them, Gilbert's voice was fairly strong and even sounded serene. "He's beautiful, Jack. Beautiful. I have to go. Please…let me go, baby. Let me go and I will see you…on the other side."

John's heart was pounding in its' shattered pieces. He was sobbing despite the inability to make moisture, the words he tried to say incoherent as he clutched the only viable thing he felt he had left. Even amongst all of this torture and his insurmountable grief, he had a tangible few moments of clarity that confirmed that his cherished boyfriend was right. There was no possible way that Gilbert de Lafayette was getting out of this hellhole alive, and it was only all that more painful to refuse to let him go with what little peace he could provide to him himself. John had to allow his love's soul to take flight.

"I love you so much, Gil." John leaned down, his body trembling and a final, viable tear slipping down his own face. "I'll s-see you both on the oth-other side."

Gilbert must have been too weak to speak any more. The absence of the rising and falling of his chest was soon as familiar as his heartbeat was once, and John was forced to wrap his lifeless body in the sheets he'd been sleeping in the night before to prevent the rotting stench from making the bunker more unbearable than it already was with the decay of his Alexander. That night, John managed to vomit more times than he could count and came down with a fever himself, and he waited for death to rescue him more than his fellow men once he'd fully covered the slates that once provided him signs of the sun.

* * *

It took a full month's time and three extra days before the only survivor of the capturing of three of the aide-de-camps was rescued. He'd been close to death, his own body ravished by multiple infections from being deprived of sunlight, being exposed to Gilbert's illnesses, and not getting clean air. He was also dangerously dehydrated and starving, but with a lot of patience and a lot of peoples' efforts, they were able to save him and honorably discharge him for his acts of heroism. He was taken to Alexander's grave in New York City and was told the plot of Gilbert's in France before he was returned by the army to his South Carolina home. He was even allowed to keep Alexander's journal entries and Gilbert's knife.

Most of the men who'd served beneath him or alongside him figured he'd re-enlist the second he was able, and though it took him toward the end of the war to do so, he did. Regardless of his wish for death being much stronger than it'd been before, he was not killed, and he was left his toddler-aged daughter in the wake of his Martha Manning dying from an invisible disease that ravaged her lungs.

"Tell me about the war, Papa." His little Frances loved to ask questions about his time enlisted; everyone knew John Laurens was a Patriotic hero, hired to Washington's cabinet when their country produced their own government. "Did you have friends? Did you have to kill? How long were you gone? I heard you were a prisoner of war! What does that mean? Are you really a hero?"

Anything for you, baby. Yes; two of them were the lights of my life for many years. Yes. Almost the entirety of the war. It means that the British bastards kept me locked up with my two best friends until they killed those two men. Their deaths were the worst days of my life. Yes, even Papa cried. I don't think I'd call myself a hero.

One by one, methodically and as carefully as he could manage with the trauma that never went away plaguing him daily, John Laurens answered his daughter's questions. She always asked more and had something going on in her life, and those facts became his reason for continuing his life. For the rest of his days, he did not love any other romantically, but his stress and responsibility for his child grew into a deep bond that gave way to unconditional love. He never get close to the gentleman she eventually married, but he adored his grandchildren; he even got to name one of his grandson's Gilbert Alexander for the fallen loves of his life.

Regardless of all the things that got close to being better, or even happy, the sunlight never truly returned to John Laurens' life, and truth be told, he no longer looked for it.

* * *

 **Author Notes:** MY UPLOAD SCHEDULE [effective as of 8/25/19]:

-Hamil-ton of Short Stories: Updated at least once weekly after two more specific prompts are uploaded ASAP

-Blood Stained Cherry Blossom Petals: Updated every other week (opposite By Degrees)

-By Degrees: Updated every other week (opposite BSCBP)

-Secret projects to be uploaded soon: Updated once every two weeks; no set date

-All other stories: No schedule set at this time

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**Please remember to leave kudos/subscribe/bookmark/leave a review if it so compels you! Requests are still very much


	21. Cuddles (Hamliza)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-01-19_

 **Author Note:** HELLO My LOVES! I would like to offer you all my sincerest apologies for such a spontaneous and lengthy hiatus, but trust me, it was well needed. I am back and I am thrilled to be where I belong again, even if I know that my body would not have forced this break if it weren't needed.

Now! The astonishing, incredible artists historysalt and mamma_peggs on Insta have created a month-full of Hamliza prompts, and I am participating in this challenge! I hope you all ready for a lot of fics to both participate in this challenge along with break up the constant Hamliza (because I still have other stories to write!), so now is a wonderful time for requests!

Without any further ado, I give you Day One: Cuddles!

* * *

Eliza's hands were clasped firmly around the emblems adorning her necklace, her eyes trained up at the ceiling as she listened to the sound of her husband showering. She was hardly able to wait for the impending event just a few days ago; she'd pictured it so clearly that it drove her positively wild. But now that she was here, waiting for him to come in and do the very thing that they'd been giggling and teasing each other about only hours earlier, she was afraid, and the very thought of her being nervous made her angry, and that only contributed to her overall distress. She was a mess and she hated it.

"What am I going to do?" She finally asked herself out loud, confident that her partner wouldn't hear over the drumming of the water and his own off-key humming. "I've been a wife for a total of eight hours, and I'm already shit at it! God help me."

The solitude was doing nothing for her nerves. She finally rolled onto her stomach, burying her face half-within one of the hotel pillows as she attempted to FaceTime her older sister. No answer; it stood to reason when Angelica and John were all over each other the entire reception, but it was still disappointing. She considered trying her mother next, as she knew that without a doubt that Catherine Van Rennselaer Schuyler was familiar with the act of being intimate, but the knowledge that bringing up something so personal would be mortifying for both of them made her keep scrolling through her contacts. Most of her other friends had families to tend to or were more than likely asleep, so she settled on trying her other closest-in-age sister despite the fact that Peggy was not married or even engaged. Somehow, Eliza had a hard time believing that her firecracker, much-desired Irish triplet hadn't been intimate with her long-term boyfriend, anyway, so maybe it didn't matter.

"Betsy?" Peggy answered on the third ring, her face alert and expression confused. "What are you doing calling me? Don't you have…things to do?"

"Margaret Schuyler!" Eliza squeaked in protest, her face igniting more deeply with a blush while her sister cackled. "You insufferable brat!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Peggy exclaimed as she flopped back, revealing that she herself was in bed with her shirtless boyfriend. "Say hi to John, Betsey!"

"Hi, John," Eliza said politely before growing more serious. "I called you for something important, Pegs…if you don't mind."

"Oh shoot, okay!" Her sister got to her feet in a roll, causing John to grunt softly and the phone to crackle painfully loud with how she shifted it along with her body. "Here, I'm going into the hallway now…Okay! What's up, Bets? Who do I have to beat up?"

"Nobody!" Eliza protested, but she couldn't help but to smile a little. "Look, I'm just…calling for some advice. I just need to talk about something, and for you listen to all of it before you tell me what you think. Can you do that for me?"

Peggy opened her mouth to respond, but she then shut it pointedly and gave her a quick nod. And so, hands and voice trembling, Eliza told her little sister everything. How'd she been imaging this for so, so long, and how the scenarios she came up with always left her red-faced and elated. How the whole day had felt like a fairytale come true, and how she and Alexander had been none too subtle with their innuendos and advances since they saw each other in their wedding outfits. How she'd been getting into her lingerie while he went to freshen up, and how doubt had gone from a small puddle in the back of her mind to a massive tsunami that wracked her entire body. The guilt she felt at feeling like she was betraying her brand-new husband, how she feared he'd be upset, how she detested herself for being this way. She even mentioned the tiny part of her that worried that this next act of union, the beginning of their honeymoon, wouldn't be all that she dreamed it be, and how it only made her feel worse.

When she finished her lament, the newly anointed Elizabeth Hamilton felt simultaneously so much better and all the worse. Her sister was silent for a few long moments after she finished talking, her expression hard to read but eyes distant with thoughtfulness. Eliza worried at her lower lip, her fingers releasing and gripping her necklace emblems repetitively until Peggy gave her a response.

"I honestly don't think it matters when you make love with the guy, Bets," Peggy said with none of the embarrassment that she herself had about the act of lovemaking. "If you love each other, sex is just another way to show it; it's not the end all, be all. It's kind of overrated, anyway."

"I know all of that, but what about Alexander? He's been wanting this just as badly as I have until now," Eliza reminded with a sigh. "I can't stand the thought of letting him down. I know it's silly to think he'd leave me over this, but…"

"No, no, just stop that! You know it's silly!" Her sister exclaimed with a dramatic wave of dismissal. "Why don't you just talk to him about it? I don't think one more night or however much longer is going to matter in the long run. If he's not stupid, he'll think the same, okay?"

"I…" The twenty-two-year-old began, but she allowed the statement to fade on her lips as the bathroom door clicked open and steam came rushing into the rest of the room.

"Just talk to him and keep me updated!" Evidently Peggy heard it too, because she was now heading back into whatever hotel room she'd rented with her lover and no longer paying full attention to her phone. "Love you!"

"Peg-" But the call was over, and all the newlywed woman was left with was her own darkened phone screen and the sound of her husband slowly approaching her from behind.

"Talk to me about what?" Alexander asked carefully, and Eliza could do little more than sigh in frustration before flopping her full weight back into the bed to avoid looking at him just yet. "Whoa, Betsey, what's wrong? Did I say something wrong? I know I was in there for a while, but I couldn't get all that makeup they put on me off without some serious scrubbing, and I thought you'd like it if I took the time to get the gel out of all of my hair-"

"No, no, it's nothing like that…" With a final sigh of resignation, Eliza turned back onto her back and sat up to properly face the man she was so in love with despite all of this internal conflict. "I- Wow, you're gorgeous."

For some reason, it hadn't occurred to her that he would likely only be coming out in a towel, but she certainly wasn't complaining. His dark red hair was a deeper auburn as it hung loose around his shoulders, and even in the dim light of the hotel room lights, his blue eyes sparkled as he looked down on her with concern. His upper torso was lean and taunt, but his stomach was pleasantly padded with a layer of fat, an indication that her and her mother's cooking really had ensured that his previously hunger-wracked frame was filled out. His tan skin was adorned with scars like cities on a map, most of them old and white, but at least the few that were fresher had been tended to with her nearby if not by her own hands. He was perfect, so perfect for her, and now so worried, all because she couldn't give him something so simple but so complicated. She could not help but feel with a harsh pang of sorrow that he may be happier with another woman, one who could give him what he so clearly desired and deserved.

"Betsy." Alexander came closer now, his towel sliding down his hips as he sat at her side. "You're too kind to me, but what were on the phone with your sister about? Please, talk to me."

"I…I…" Usually, she was confident and felt more at ease around him than she did with anybody else in the world, but now she felt as though her chest was tightening and she was growing smaller and smaller by the second as she thought about breaking the news to him.

That was before he pulled his arms around her, bringing her close to his side without setting her into his nearly naked lap. Despite his smaller frame, his hugs were warm and enveloped her perfectly, like they'd been made specifically to hold each other. Her body relaxed immediately, her face turning to nestle into his shoulder before she had a chance to internally debate whether or not this would somehow further lead him on to something she didn't want yet. He rested his chin on the top of her head just as naturally, one hand resting delicately on her lower back while the other secured her against his body.

"Hey," he murmured now, his breath warm against her glittery, smooth hair. "Whatever it is…We'll figure it out. We always have before; we always will be going forward. I, uh, have to admit that I didn't exactly see this coming, but that doesn't really matter. I'm here for you until my very last breath, and then forevermore once we reach the Promised Land. I have sworn it to you before and I shall every day until you shall never have to wonder of my sincerity again."

"You are such a poet, Mister Hamilton," Eliza teased affectionately as his words settled over her mind like a warm blanket. "You love to speak as though we are from olden days when you get romantic~"

"Anything for my loving drop of sunshine," Alexander outright gushed as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I must treat you like the queen you are to me!"

She finally laughed and kissed him sweetly, but the doubt tugged hard on the base of her heart again as they pulled away and she looked deep into his eyes, and she finally resolved that it was now or ever. "Alex...Today has been practically perfect in every way. I could have never imagined how wonderful it would feel to marry the man I want to be with until the end of the universe and beyond, and how much more in love with you I could possibly be until I stood with you at the alter…I am absolutely smitten with you, Alexander James Hamilton-"

"As I am with you," he interjected sweetly, which did a lot to both make her heart flutter and break.

"…but I am not sure I am ready to bed you!" Eliza finally confessed, tears springing to her eyes as she buried herself more tightly into his arms. "I-I! It's n-nothing you did! As a matter of fact, y-you've done everything so right, but even though so much of me wants to make love to you more than anything else in the world, I…I'm so, so sorry, but I'm still nervous. I know you're probably disappointed, and I know we've been waiting for so long, but I just…can't help it. I'm so sorry."

For moments that felt like an eternity, he didn't move or say anything. Then, he lifted her up and away from her, laying her purposefully down on her back once more before getting up. Just as she was about to burst into sobs, something inside her beginning to open up and swallow her heart whole, he leaned in and gave her another kiss on the forehead, one so sweet and lengthy that it made the tears freeze in her eyes and her heartrate somewhat slow.

"Let me go get some pajamas on, then," Alexander said with a small but genuine smile that radiated even more warmth than his skin. "If it would be alright my darling wife, I'd love to cuddle you all night."

"Y…you're not upset?" Elizabeth could hardly believe it as she looked up at him, the moisture in her eyes slowly spilling out despite how she wasn't making any fresh tears.

He wiped them away at once, his smile fading with worry as he used his other hand to hold her own securely. "It would not be fair to lie to you and say that I wasn't looking forward to making love with the woman I married. On that same breath, however, that is nothing at all compared to the comfort and safety of my dearest Eliza. I shall wait a thousand years if you tell me you'd prefer it! The thing that matters to me is that you are happy, and that you are just as excited and happy as me when…or even if we should ever know each other in that way. Nothing at all matters to me."

"But you deserve to be happy, too! You deserve to love me in the ways you want!" Eliza said sorrowfully, cupping his face with her hands as a final tear streaked down her cheek. "It is not as though I don't trust and adore you with my entire being…I don't know what's wrong with me, my Hamilton."

"Nothing at all is wrong with you. We are all ready at different times; I am sure of it," Alexander insisted with all the easy confidence that he loved to show off to everyone. "I am no hurry, my most beloved Betsy. We have the rest of our lives, after all."

She was the luckiest woman in the world, she was sure of it. She smiled up to him with pure adoration and trust, her arms founding her way around his neck as she kissed him so deeply and for so long that they were both breathless when they eventually broke away. As he dressed into silky green pajamas, she got up herself and dropped the fluffy, pale green robe that had been hiding. The lingerie she'd picked out was made up of a corset, straight-blacked and toned a deep, royal blue where they weren't black ribbons and lacy black patterns. Her breasts was nicely held up, of course, and she had to admit that she enjoyed the amount of support that it provided while still making her feel sexy and confident. Her hips and bottom were clad with black shorts that only came around halfway down her thighs, and beneath that, a pair of panties that matched her corset were peeking out from how the shorts had ridden down in her tossing and turning.

Once Alexander turned around, his face damn near matched his normal shade of hair, but the wide grin he wore fully assured her that this was hardly a negative reaction. He slowly made his way over to her, his eyes lidded as he knelt at the bedside and took her hand in both of his own to kiss her knuckles tenderly. Her own gaze grew sultrier and more suggestive as she sat on the edge of the bed, her hair falling over her shoulder and into his face as she guided his mouth against her exposed chest. His kisses trailed from between her breasts, up to her collarbone and across her neck until she was quietly moaning and warm with the feeling of want between them that was familiar as his careful but skillful touch.

"Alexander," she murmured.

That was all she had to say. He pulled himself into the bed, laying onto his side in order to pull his arms around her. She switched off the main lights, leaving on the bedside light on its lowest setting before sliding in between the sheets and into his arms. He smelled like aloe and vanilla, and his skin had not quite yet lost the pliant warmth from his shower, so she practically melted into him. She laced her around him, her fingertips tracing directionless patterns across his back as her legs carefully intertwined across and between his. He pressed his forehead on the top of her head, their breathing slowly sinking with each other's as they laid still, soaking in each other and the pleasant silence of the room.

Eliza wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but when she woke up, the sun outside was casting sleepy circles of yellow across the room. Alexander was still holding her as she held him, and though she could tell he was awake by the way he was breathing, she didn't want to break the serene stillness quiet yet. Somewhere outside, birds began to rouse and call out their morning songs. Cars occasionally drifted by, some more audible than others. From where her face was nestled against his neck and shoulder, she watched as the spots of sunlight slowly, ever so slowly, moved from their places as the sun began to rise higher and higher. She was certain she could spend the rest of their happy union in this cuddling embrace, even if her body was beginning to disagree too loudly to ignore. She was at least comforted by the unspoken knowledge that the feeling was mutual from him.

"Betsy…I would hate to offend you, but I need the bathroom," Alexander finally mumbled.

"I do too," she admitted reluctantly. "But I am tempted to beg you to stay regardless."

"You need not beg for a thing. All that I am, I give to you," he murmured affectionately, kissing her forehead, then her nose, across her cheeks, and finally her lips.

"And I give all that I am to you," she replied in the same soft, sleep-laced voice.

Before he could fully rouse, she decided to pull herself from his arms, sliding one leg over his hips until she was straddling him fully. Her Alexander looked to her with a mixture of surprise and amusement, and she could only chuckle before kissing him with all the pent-up feelings that could not be realized underneath all of her previous self-doubt. His hands slowly made their way up the backs of her thighs, then higher, and she smiled and giggled mischievously and kissed him further until they were both quite breathless and giddy.

He was her Hamilton, and she was his Betsey. Tonight, they would make love. A bit earlier than that, they'd make their dinner reservations, and perhaps go shopping on the town of this beautiful island. But for now, they were returning from the bathroom for more cuddles and kisses, and that was just as perfect as everything else.


	22. First Meeting (Hamliza)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-02-19_

 **Author Note:** This prompt was something I based on the astounding mamma_peggs drawing of historical Hamliza meeting, and poor Alexander being a blushing, adorable mess as his lady was charming and flustered in a more subtle way. God Bless this ship, honestly.

* * *

The lights and sounds of the party were all muffled to Alexander as he stumbled his way through the thick of it. His world was on fire and spinning, getting hotter and faster the longer he was subjected to such sensory overload with no chance of reprieving it. Tears stung in his eyes as he did him damndest to navigate around the people who seemed to multiple the more frantic he grew, his words all clogging his throat and all of his formalities completely vacating his mind as he focused on getting out as fast as his legs could carry him. This was too much, far too much, and being stable and comfortable was the furthest thing from his mind as the room seemed to close in around him.

"Alexandre!" And then Gilbert de Lafayette was there, too close to his face, too tightly holding his shoulders. "Slow down, mon ami! What is the big rush to leave, the night is yo-"

"I can't!" Alexander cried out sharply, his face a deep, shamed red as he looked everywhere but at one of his best friends. "I can't fucking- I can't- Damnit, Gil, I need to go outside! I need to go outside right fucking now!"

"O-oh!" Realization seemed to cast across his close friend's face, and Hamilton wasn't sure if that was a source of comfort or further mortification. "Okay, okay, we will…We will go, then! Let's step outside for a bit and calm down…"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Alexander mumbled, feeling lightheaded as he was pulled with haste through the pounding music and sweaty bodies and elaborate dances and fragment foods and booming laughter and tittering gossips and-

They burst into the cool, far more open area of the massive family garden with a grandiose swing of a set of heavy wooden doors. The fresh air filled Alex's still-heaving lungs and made him feel even more lightheaded as he was guided to sit on a bench, even as he sputtered out a mixture of broken apologies and curses and coughed openly. Gilbert stayed by his side silently, simply sitting nearby and lightly rubbing his back until some of the ringing in his ears had dulled and he could finally focus on his body in the present.

"Hey…" Alexander finally managed, his eyes lidded and face still colored from the cold as he gazed to his tremendously loyal companion. "Thanks, man. I felt like I was never going to get out of there."

"I understand the feeling well. I think it has happened to everyone at some point or another," Gilbert said sympathetically. "Do you want to stay out here for a bit longer?"

"Yeah man, for sure," Alex said with a sigh much too shaky for his liking.

It was not hard to tell that his close friend had been having a significantly better time at this whole affair than him. They'd barely been outside for ten minutes when a young woman, one with dark hair and eyes that were a striking grey, appeared just outside of the doors they'd come out of. She hovered near the massive pillars that supported the entryway, peeking over at them but trying to be subtle, and Alexander immediately understood. He looked over to his friend with a tight but sincere smile, placing his hand on his shoulder with a brotherly shake.

"Go on, man. Go get your girl," he encouraged. "She's waiting for you."

Gilbert glanced over and gave her a smile and a wave, causing her to blush and wave back with all the endearment of a small girl in love. "Are…are you sure you will be alright alone, mon frere?"

"Oui," Alexander assured. "Go dance the night away and sweep her off of her feet. I'll be back in eventually."

"…Merci, Alexandre. Adeiu!" And with that his friend was up and back to his lady, and even though the night felt a little too cold without someone else to talk to, Hamilton was more than happy to watch him go enjoy his night while he began to recover from his.

It was hard to say how long he was out there. Alexander eventually laid on his back, buttoning up his blazer and pulling his hair down from where it'd been pinned up in an uncomfortable, tight bun. The stars were difficult to see with all of the lights illuminating the pathways and plants, but they were there, and they were as beautiful as they'd always been. Even though he loved living in the grandest city in the universe, far, far away from his roots that constantly tried to ensnare him and trap him in his traumatic past, he could not help but miss the openness of the sky from his childhood. The world was wider then, all of it so much more promising than the poverty and misery he spent day after retched day in, but he knew that coming far did not mean coming away from hardships and sorrow. He was still the same peculiar kid from the Caribbean with deep, existential thoughts and fears and anxieties that bubbled up at the most inopportune times, and he was an outsider even when he was safe among friends and strangers were cordial if not polite.

"Excuse me? Excuse me…sir? Are you alright?" A female voice, one he was sure he'd heard before but didn't quite recognize, called out. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I just…I wanted to make you you're not dead or something."

"Nope, not dead," he called back with a tight smile. "Not yet, anyway. I have far too much to do to die now, ma'am. Do I need to move?"

"No no, you're alright!" The voice assured gently. "Ah…I'm sorry to bother you, sir. Have a good night."

As he sat up, he was not sure who he was expecting to see, or what she would look like, but she far surpassed any mental image he'd paired with her gentle, even voice. Her hair was nearly as black as the night, braided intricately into a much more attractive bun than his had once been, and her dark eyes were sad and a little bit red. She wore an eloquent baby blue dress that billowed out in ruffles beneath the wide-split base of her gown and trailed up her upper body and down her arms in matching lace on the sides and sleeves that weren't covered with black fabric. She was breathing taking, even more so than any night sky or sparkling stars, and now she was blushing from embarrassment and turning away with shame because of his unreliability with women.

"W-wait!" Alexander practically yelped, feeling foolish as the word left his lips with no grace, but it did make her pause. "I…You…Shit. You don't have to leave, ma'am. At the risk of sounding even more creepy than I'm probably already coming across to you…I'd love for you to join me if it so compels you…ma'am."

Thankfully, she giggled rather than cringing, and he felt relief insecurely settle over him as she turned back to him. "You don't have to me ma'am, sir, but thank you for your offer. I believe I will."

As she delicately made her way over and settled beside him, her gown bundled and gathered both in her lap and off to her opposite side, he was struck that she smelled like honey and…something else that he couldn't identify immediately, but it was sweet. She smiled to him and he felt his heart positively explode inside his chest. She was captivated, and kind. The thought of anybody or anything at all being the source for her swollen eyes and sniffling nose made a rage bubble at the base of his throat, and he could not help himself but to talk.

"Are you alright yourself, ma'am?" He asked, trying to sound concerned but more than likely coming across as slightly aggressive. "Sorry, sorry…I just hate to think of anyone making you upset."

"I appreciate the kindness, but you know…you don't have to be nice to be just because of my family. I am my own person, and I have never understood my parents' belief that we ought to be hailed highly simply because of our economic status and lineage," the woman said with a sad, reluctant smile.

"Ma- I mean, Miss. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not certain of who you are, much less your family," Alexander admitted with a tinge of shyness. "I apologize."

At first, she didn't respond, and he worried he'd struck a nerve until she laughed. As a matter of fact, she laughed and laughed until tears came to her eyes, and he had to fumble to get his handkerchief out when she began to worry with her smudging eyeliner. Once she'd calmed herself back down, she turned him with a smile that was full of perfect teeth, her eyes sparkling like the stars above, and he had to wonder yet again how his panicked episode had let him to being in such close proximity with the most gorgeous woman to ever grace the Earth.

"I am glad to hear you say that," she finally admitted. "But I suppose I can't hide it forever. My name is Elizabeth Schuyler, but please, call me Eliza."

Elizabeth Schuyler. Of course she was the daughter of the man and woman who were hosting this prestigious party! He had been lucky to be invited, even as a trusted confidante and second of one of the most influential war generals in the country, and here he was talking carelessly to one of the fair maidens who'd been raised by the hosts! He was a fool, a damn fool, and he would have wished to evaporate all together if he weren't so entranced by her beauty and oh-so charming wit.

"I…I am very sorry!" He exclaimed hurriedly, which caused her to sigh softly and made him all the more desperate to fix it. "I mean! You did say you tire of people giving you their adoration for your status and notoriety, but I would like to give you mine based solely on the personality you have shown me! It would seem to me that you are incredibly kind, and you are obviously the most gorgeous individual in the known world and beyond, and I cannot lie to you and not admit that I am positively charmed by you. I know I should not speak boldly but I am banking on your not minding, but I have always been hopeless at contain myself and not over speaking as I am doing now, but frankly I cannot seem to stop on my own accord-"

"Sir, sir, it's alright!" Elizabeth- Eliza- finally interjected, not unkindly. "Please, relax. I am…simply a girl meeting a boy. Status and formalities be damned."

He was not expecting a single crude word to come from her sweet lips, but it only contributed to his absolute delight in her company. "Yes…yes, of course! And if that is the case, and I am simply a boy meeting a lovely lady…May I have this dance with you, Miss Schy- Eliza?"

The music from within the mansion flooded out even into this garden area, though not nearly as loudly, and he let the beat guide him to his feet and bow formally while extending his hand. There was a moment of hesitation, and she took it, her gown untangling with seeming effortlessness as she kicked off the pearly slippers she'd been adorning all night. Together, they began to dance, their eyes meeting in brief, shy glances as he focused all of his energy in leading properly and not stepping on her toes.

Eventually, she twirled away from him, and he was devastated at the thought of having offended her. But just as quickly as she'd gone, she pranced back toward him in a ridiculous, silly fashion, her skirts hiked up in her hands as she began to spin in playful circles, and he could not help but laugh and begin to freestyle his own movements to accompany her. The two of them giggled like small children, their moves awkward and improvised, gliding and twirling and dancing in entirely new ways toward each other and apart, not quite touching for at least three verses. He finally gathered the courage to come toward her quickly, picking her up from her waist and bringing her up above his head in a stumbling but successful lift. She drew her head back and posed effortlessly in the moonlight, and he was sure he'd met an angel on Earth as they both laughed and fell all over themselves as he brought her back down and the song finally ended.

"I haven't had that much fun dancing in years!" Eliza exclaimed breathlessly, her arms finding their way around his neck as they both fell back onto the bench they'd began on. "We really must do this again sometime!"

"I would be delighted to," he said quickly, more than likely too hasty to not sound a little desperate, but this made her giggle and he commanded himself to relax.

"As would I," she agreed as they finally caught their breath, the two of them savoring each other's touch as they both gazed across the garden and to the sky. "I hate to leave you so soon, but I really must get back to attending to the other guests, and to my family. I would be honored to receive your number and social media details, though, if you'd like to reprise this fun sometime soon~"

"Absolutely!" Alexander shamelessly stumbled for his phone, his face flush and his grin unashamed and wide as she tapped and scrolled until she'd successfully added herself into his life in more than one place.

As she rose and pushed her feet back into her shoes, he thought to ask again of what made her cry. He wondered if she noticed how his own eyes had undoubtedly still been puffy when she first came across him, and if they felt the same sense of dread and boredom of such a sophisticated event. He wondered if she were truly alike the rest of her family, who seemed untouchable in their beauty and grace, and if she felt like an outsider when she was where she was meant to be longed. He asked himself all of these things as he watched her smooth out her dress and ready herself to re-enter this strange and dazzling society, and he nearly reached out to touch and comfort her before she turned back around suddenly and gave him a genuine smile full of playful undertones and flirtatious appreciation that even he could not deny.

"It was fancy to meet you…" She began, then paused. A silent question. Had he truly forgotten to introduce himself in all this banter?

"Hamilton. Alexander Hamilton," he hurriedly said, face growing more crimson, but then her smile returned, and he felt more at home than he had in a long, long time.

"Lieutenant Alexander Hamilton," Eliza mused before turning back around, her eyes and smile meeting him from just over her shoulder. "Well. It was very fancy meeting you, dear Hamilton."

As she walked away from their first meeting and encounter, Alexander was certain of two things: He was positively, helplessly smitten with her, and there would be time later for him to learn more of her.


	23. Letters (Hamliza)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-04-19 (Just past midnight of 12/03)_

 **Author Note:** Today I give you a drabble, as I am technically posting this late because school and procrastination and about a million other things are lowkey consuming me. I hope you enjoy my Day Three entry regardless! :w:

* * *

Henry Eagleton had run his wood crafting business for nearly thirty-four years in tandem with his commissioned paintings projects. He took great, painstaking pride in his products, and due to his careful saving and notoriety throughout the colonies, he could typically afford to experiment and redo his creations at a somewhat leisurely pace. Thanks to the demand for supplies and hope alike throughout the Revolution, he'd both seen a rise in demand for his products- particularly his decorative coffins- as well as been forced to crank out his things more rapidly to keep up with peoples' finnicky demands and tight budgets.

When it he received commissions for something other than casing for the deceased or memorabilia for broken families, then, he was eager to settle back into it. This commission was from a member of the significant Schuyler family, and requested that he make a carved and painted letter box to store a magnitude of parchment within. The young woman- one 'Elizabeth Schuyler'- only requested specifics in that the initials 'A' and 'E' were engraved somewhere within the cherry wood, which left him as much creative freedom as he truly preferred.

"Excuse me, sir? Mister Eagleton?" A young male voice carried through his story, bringing the old man's gaze upward from his realm of concentration. "And a good day to you, sir. I am here to see about having a sealing stamp created with my familial heirloom."

"A stamp for seals, you say?" Henry mused, a small smile hinting on his lips. "I have not crafted many of those, but I am nevertheless intrigued by your decision to pursue my services with such a request. Have you no other recommendations of other gentlemen who specialize more in that particular craft?"

"I have," the young man, who was terribly skinny and small in his Patriotic uniform, replied indignantly. "But I do insist on paying you. If you must know my reasoning, it is for my dearest maiden, the most beloved and stunning lady in the world, has spoken very highly of you. If she hath enough trust within you to craft a container to properly hold my meticulously crafted words, then I put my good faith within you in a similar interest."

"I see. And what is this maiden's name, pray tell?" Henry asked, his eyes sparkling as ideas danced round his head at the possibility of having been employed by both parties of a courtship.

"Elizabeth Schuyler, sir."

Henry's half-smile grew into a more significant one as he carefully rose to his feet, making his way over to the passionate young man with his hand extended with a bit of parchment in order to copy or create this symbol of his. "I am indeed familiar with Miss Schuyler, and I have the utmost faith that you could have not chosen more wisely on this matter."

* * *

"Oh, this is positively marvelous!" Eliza gasped as the handmade letterbox was presented to her. "How beautiful!"

It had taken Mister Eagleton nearly a full month's time to complete this project. In this time, she and her beau, her dear Hamilton, had exchanged letters as often as possible, and her collection was already too hefty to contain loosely within a hidden area of one of her dressers. This box was practically perfect in every single way; the wood was cherry colored, a deep stain that looked and felt polished as she cradled it against her hands. The initials 'A' and 'E' were carved into the very front, and all across the sides, there were neat drawings of flowers, birds, trees, fruit, desserts, and animals. The most endearing parts, however, were atop the thick, sturdy lid that was able to be lifted by opening a golden clasp. A familial symbol, one that she did not recognize but figured had to pertain to her suitor in some way, adorned the very center as an engraving. All around this emblem and above the painted artwork, there were words, all of them resembling the kind of speech and even the handwriting that her darling wrote to her within.

"I cannot express to you how absolutely perfect this is," she breathed out in contented bliss. "Thank you, Mister Eagleton. Thank you so very, very much!"

The two of them exchanged currency, and he carefully repackaged her item so that she was able to slip it into one of her sturdy, thickly made pockets. Before she was able to leave this shop, her mind already racing with all that she would tell and ask Alexander about this incredibly personalized letterbox, the old man gently put a hand on her arm and gave her a kind smile.

"That suitor of yours is certainly something, Miss Schuyler," he noted, not unkindly. "I do wonder if he is always as decisive and confrontational with the most mundane of matters as he has been in my encounters with him. Tell me, if you would, Miss Elizabeth…What is that beau really like to capture your heart so tightly?"

With a smile of her own, Eliza simply placed one of her hands over his while pulling her arm back to rest on her chest, just over her fluttering heart. "Sir, all I can say is that he is, and he is mine."


	24. The Bermuda Vortex (Jamilton)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-04-19_

 **Author Note:** Here it is! After three days and a lot of concentration to make up for the procrastination it took to get this bad boy written well, here is my extraordinarily overdue birthday gift for my extremely beloved kiddo, Bethany! Beth, I am incredibly proud of you, and you astound me every single day with how creative, kind, funny, and original you are. I am honored to be your adoptive mother. Ma adores you!

* * *

It was a cruel and unusual form of punishment to subject a man to going on a triple date that involved his mortal enemy. This fact was only worsened by the truth that there was not even a dating partner for either of them to balance out their rival's presence, but neither of them could bear to let down the two very special women in their lives to implored them to tag along with them and two other mutual friends.

"Oh my gosh, look at that absolute unit!" Maria gasped as she looked up at the much anticipated 'ride of the year' that had made its way all the way to the New York state fair, a roller coaster that was coined 'Bermuda's Vortex' that featured a 500 ft. drop and just over 8,000 feet of track, all of which was combined to sharp turns, multiple loops, and a section enclosed in a pitch-black tunnel. "Who's going to go on it with me?"

"Not me," Eliza said quickly, her face rosy and eyes wide as she gazed up at the towering attraction. "I don't do 'upside down.'"

"Besides, look at that line!" Angelica agreed, gesturing to the hoard of people teeming out of the designated roped area and expanding as far as they could see. "That's at least a three hour wait!"

"It matters not!" Lafayette chirped, grabbing Maria's hand and beginning to march toward the crowd. "We will wait all day if we must!"

"Slow your role there, Frenchie!" Angelica called after him, her hand securely holding her sister's as she hurried after the two adrenaline junkies. "I'm not interested in spending the day away from my girlfriend!"

Alexander watched all of them from a small distance, smiling to himself as they teased and called after each other. He always felt like a bit of outsider, even among his beloved friend group, but he didn't really mind. He'd spent his entire life learning how to get close, but not too close, and how to enjoy simply being around those he loved rather than intimately interlocking his identity within them. It would undoubtedly sound morbid and pessimistic to a more romantic person, but he'd learned at the tender age of ten that getting overly attacked to anyone only led to heartbreak and recovery that took long for his liking. This was the best for everyone, even if he didn't know if anybody else truly understood his reasoning.

"Come on, Hamilshit! You can do it! You can do it, little guy!" His serene thoughts were shattered by the ever-smug bastard known as Thomas Jefferson, who was walking backwards and bent down to insinuate he was talking to a child. "Come on!"

"Very original, Jefferbitch," Alexander scoffed in response. "Do you have any more 'witty insults' for me? Maybe you'll come up with something original while you're using that hat rack underneath your tangled-up mop of hair."

"You're just jealous mine looks better than yours on a bad day than yours ever will," Jefferson retorted. "Now get your skinny ass in gear, we don't run on island time."

"Wow, an actually witty joke! Good job!" Alex mocked in a patronizing tone that was similar to the one his enemy had originally spoken to him with. "But you can fuck right off, you racist twat."

"Boys, don't make me put you in time out!" Eliza called from over her shoulder with a frown.

"Yes Betsey!" Alex called in a much kinder voice, jogging to catch up but making sure to subtly shove Jefferson with his shoulder on his way past him.

That was how they'd been less than three hours ago. Now, they were up at the front of the line for Bermuda's Vortex, and Alexander was sure his eyes would fall out if had to roll them one more time. If Jefferson was insufferable when they were trailing after each other and waiting in shorter lines, he only grew worse over the course of them waiting for the most popular attraction by far, and the immigrant honestly had to commend himself for not outright punching the ass. Eliza, true to her word, was avoiding the attraction and had only been occasionally checking in from where she'd been playing all kinds of fair games (and absolutely conquering most them, even the rigged ones, to all of their delights), so she had not been able to mediate almost whatsoever between the two bitter rivals.

"Are you sure you'll meet the height requirement?" Jefferson sneered now, patronizingly ruffling his hair. "You're practically a child anyway."

"If they'll let a pile of horse shit on, they won't have anything to worry about with me," he shot back bitterly. "Now shut your ass up before I-"

"Before you what?" Jefferson demanded with a barked laugh. "Do it for me? Don't go biting off more than you can chew, little man!"

"Will you two shut up?!" Angelica snapped from behind them, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at them both with so much venom that it made them shrink back a little. "I can't take it anymore! You're both overgrown boys! I can't listen to another fucking word of it! If you don't have anything nice or productive to say to each other, don't say anything, for the love of God!"

Even if her execution was crude and made the parents on either of them shoot her Looks, it was effective in getting them to cease their squabbling. Almost as if she'd been cued, Eliza came back up to them all on the other side of rope, her arms open to take their bags and loose items as per usual. As she arranged the items, one of the coasters pulled back up and the riders unloaded.

"Are you sure you're alright down here?" Lafayette asked with a fond smile. "People have been cutting in all day; it would not be a big deal~"

"I don't have a death wish like the rest of you," she replied before giving him a gentle kiss. "You five have fun."

The gates swung open and the next twenty-two people began to load up. Thanks to the uneven number of their own party, one of the ride attendants turned back toward the crowd and called out into his megaphone, "Do we have any single riders?!"

"Hey! We have one right here!" One of the other attendants quipped, pointing to Eliza before gesturing for her to board.

She looked just as confused as Alexander felt, but then he glanced down and realized that she had, in fact, been standing in a lane specifically for single riders that they'd all missed thanks to the crowd overflowing. He was expecting her to excuse herself, but much to his and everyone else's shock, she hesitated only for a moment before nodding decisively and plopping their things in the designated area before scrambling beside her boyfriend.

"Whoa, Betsey!" Alex exclaimed, not without amusement. "You're taking on this beast after all?"

"I have to conquer my fears one day, right?" Eliza replied with a grin that was full of excitement and fear.

"Hell yes, ma amour!" Lafayette cheered, planting a clumsy kiss on her cheek and squeezing her hand tightly. "On ne vit qu'une fois!"

Alexander grinned back at them, but the positive feeling didn't last. With her aboard, the only other open spot was right next to Thomas, who looked about as disgusted as he felt. A variety of insults and taunts came to mind to throw his way, but Angelica's word echoed in mind, and he simply sank into the seat with a resigned huff. After all, this ride was only going to be about four minutes long, and then he could go right back to sneering at and ignoring the prissy Virginian.

"Finally warming up to me, I see." Jefferson smirked down at him as the ride attendants checked their restraints. "I knew you had in it in you to see reason~"

"I've seen reason all along, you southern-fried idiot," Alex spit back, unable to help himself yet again. "Maybe the ride will malfunction and you can finally be erased from this otherwise tolerable world."

Maybe he would've said something else, but the countdown at the top of the holding area began to beep its descent, so they mutually settled for making faces in opposite directions of each other. Even though he knew it was coming directly after the 'one', Alexander couldn't help but scream in a mixture of terror and delight as their machine took off, throwing him back into his seat so abruptly that it hurt. He yelled along with everyone in front and behind him as the ride began twisting, turning, looping, and making two of the four long climbs before speeding down with even more vigor than the initial takeoff. Even if his fight-or-flight response made him grip on tightly to the handlebars and shriek with all his worth, he was thrilled to be on such an incredibly intense ride to balance out having to sit next to someone he despised so much, and he was having a lot of fun regardless.

He was taking the anticipatory third ascent to catch his breath a bit when the loudly clacking chains began to rumble even more loudly, much more so that what sounded normal. He stole a glance at his carmate, whose eyebrows were creased as the wide grin across his face began to noticeably fade. They'd just made eye contact as they got to the very top of the peek, and they just as quickly were forced to look ahead as they begin a rapid descent that stopped so abruptly that they could hear metal screeching and gears popping as they were all pitched forward extremely sharply. Smoke filled the air rapidly thereafter along with screams, one of which included Thomas's.

That would've been funny in any other situation, but Alexander's collarbone and right shoulder felt completely, painfully numb. He instinctually went to move it, but the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes again and biting back shrieks as excruciating pain ripped through the area into the rest of his body. There was absolutely no doubt about it; something was broken, and they were stuck. Behind him, he could hear Eliza hyperventilating and Gilbert softly talking in French to try and soothe her. He wondered if she had anything broken herself, but he was in no hurry to reignite the Hellish pain, even if he was concerned about his friends.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are so sorry for the delay, but we seem to be having technical malfunctions." The voice of the intercoms surrounding the ride was cheerful, a sharp contrast to how everybody aboard was feeling. "Please remain seated and in your seats until we are able to resolve this issue. We thank you for your patience and cooperation."

"WE NEED HELP!" A female voice shouted from somewhere before Alex. "MY SON! WE NEED HELP! HE'S HURT, DAMNIT!"

"We're all hurt!" An irritable man snapped from where behind him.

"MY SON ISN'T BREATHING!" The female voice sobbed. "HE ISN'T BREATHING, WE NEED HELP!"

Fear pulsed through Alexander, filling him up with a deep sense of dread and familiar horror that greeted him like an old friend. People screaming. Buildings and property destroyed. It was hard not to think of the hurricane that ravaged his island and stripped his island barren, and yet he forced himself to take deep breaths and calm down. There was no time for panic now, not yet. He was an adult, not a terrified teenager with an existing death wish. He had a career to live for and others who were far more in need than himself.

"You fucking idiot, did you not hear the announcement?!" Jefferson hissed sharply as Alexander began to fumble clumsily with his restraints. "Do you want your ass to get flattened on the concrete?!"

"If her son isn't breathing, somebody has to do something!" Alexander snapped back in a strong voice. "Somebody has to do something, you selfish prick!"

Getting the gears off was going to be no easy task without both of his hands and shoulders. He had only managed to tangle up one of the seatbelts on his left side when his hand was smacked sharply, causing him to snap his head up and glare at Jefferson with all the venom he could convey.

"Listen here, you motherfu-"

"I'm not going to have your death on my conscience, asshole! Sit your ass down!" Jefferson hissed back with the same amount of conviction.

Alexander certainly didn't want to obey, especially not coming from Jeffershit, but it was clear that the pair just behind the woman and her son had begun to undo themselves and help, so he reluctantly sank back into position. The minutes passed like molasses, every second feeling like torture now as he tried not to focus too heavily on the growing pain in his body. He watched crowds of people gathering nearby, staring up at the famous ride and undoubtedly talking amongst themselves, and he wondered if they could be feeling any of the fear that the riders did. Everybody was undoubtedly shocked, and as more time crawled by, the tension in the air and in the voices of those who were still talking only grew.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Alex finally said with a huff. "I'm sure you can at least agree with me on that."

As he looked over to his riding partner, he was admittedly surprised by the expression of pure pain on his face. Jefferson was not one to be easily affected by just about anything, so it was very odd to see him looking so colorless and with veins practically bulging from his face. More of out of instinct than actual concern (at least, that's what he told himself it was), the immigrant gently lowered his hand over the other man's, causing said man to jump and flinch as though he'd been popped in the face.

"What's your deal?" Alexander asked bluntly but not cruelly.

"My deal, Hamilcrap, is that we're stuck one on of the tallest rollercoasters in the world, and this hunk of junk could jumpstart at any moment and hurt us all even more!" Jefferson- Thomas- snapped, but his most prominent feeling was given away with his dilated pupils and frantic glances.

"You're hurt, too?" Alex asked a bit more carefully.

"…Yeah. I think I've got whiplash or something."

Alexander nodded silently. There was certainly a comment that could be made about how broken bones and someone not breathing were far worse than whiplash, no matter how severe, but he decided to keep it to himself for a change. Their fighting was not going to make this situation any better, and it wasn't worth the energy or the inevitable guilt that would come while kicking a man while he was down. The two of them sat in their own silence for several more minutes, long enough for the sun to have noticeably sank in the sky, before it was broken by the announcement that finally came from down below.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain in your assigned seats and refrain from leaning out of the vehicle. Bermuda Vortex is currently out of service, and your restraints will be lifted shortly. Help is on the way, so please, remain calm. We thank you for your patience and cooperation."

"Help on the way? What are they going to do, make us climb a ladder down?" Thomas scoffed, but it was not hard to tell that the thought was worse than their current situation in his mind.

"No, they have equipment for this, dumbass," Alex replied with no real contempt behind his words. "They're going to raise a big platform for us to climb on, and they'll escort us down and to the ambulances or whatever."

"Alex? Tommy?" Eliza's voice called out. "Are you two okay?"

"Not great, Betsey, but making it!" Alex called back with a tight smile despite not turning to face her.

"Y-yeah, same…" She managed, her own voice edged by pain. "Everything is going to be alright, you guys. We're all going to be fine."

As the metal restraints all began to lift up, a few people screamed, and a fresh sob erupted from someone. Another female voice that Alexander recognized easily- Maria- rang out directly thereafter. "She's right, everyone! We're all going to remain calm because…Because we're all going to sing!"

"Yeah right, lady!" The same heckling male voice retorted.

Alexander was about to fie something back in response to the jerk's audacity, but Thomas beat him to it, his own face tightening with something more than terror. "You bet your damn ass she's right! MAMA, JUST KILLED A MAN~"

"PUT A GUN AGAINST HIS HEAD!" Alex chimed in just as loudly, somewhat to spite the heckler, somewhat to encourage Maria, and a little bit to support Thomas's decent response. "PULLED MY TRIGGER NOW HE'S DEAD!"

Slowly, then all at once, the other nineteen decent people joined in the song, and it was not long before a full chorus of Queen appreciators and fans were signing at the tops of their lungs to combat the coldness nipping in the air as well as the complete horror of the situation they were all in together. Somebody pulled out a phone and began recording, and by the time they reached the climax of the song, somebody from below had the official recording of the tape blasting through the speakers. Alex even bounced a little in his seat as he stamped his feet and mimicked a microphone with his hand for Thomas, who responded with just as much energy. As the song faded and a new one began, everybody erupted into cheers, whistles and laughter, most of the coiled tension evaporated, and the Caribbean found himself leaning unconsciously into his rival as they relaxed back into their cart. By the time he realized what he was doing, he didn't bother to move in order to avoid binging more attention to it, and miraculously, Jefferson didn't say or do a thing about it, either.

The platform had finally arrived and was getting people down by the time the sun was well into setting, causing a fresh wave of cheers and sighs of relief. Thomas reached over and wordlessly undid Alexander's restraints, and when a fireman reached for the Virginian and said man hesitated, Alex used his good hand to give him a gentle, encouraging pat on the backside.

"We've done crazier shit today," he said kindly. "You can step two feet over onto the thing."

When it was his turn, Alexander stumbled over himself thanks to another sharp wave of pain, but Thomas was just as quick as he'd been with helping hands. As a matter of fact, Jefferson's hands didn't quite leave his sides until they were fully back on the ground and being received tearfully by their other friends, and even then, the two of them had no more cruel words or snide sneers for the remainder of the day, no matter how much pain or exhaustion or emotions they displayed shamelessly.

Perhaps, Alexander even allowed himself to consider once they were finally discharged from hospital and allowed to eat their ordered food, the trip had not been a complete disaster after all.


	25. Whatever the Weather (Hamliza)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-05-19_

 **Author Note:** This is definitely quite late, but I am very excited to present you the fourth day of Hamliza month! This day's prompt was: Rain or snow, and I really loved how this turned out! I hope you all do too!

"Whether the weather is cold, or whether the weather is hot. We'll be together whatever the weather, whether you like it or not." -Anonymous

* * *

The walls of the Hamilton residence shook under the weight of the storm that was flooding the streets of New York City raged overhead. The rain had begun sometime during the mid-afternoon and only grown more severe over time, leading to a lot of hearth fires and cozy nights in for all of the families and animals across the land. As for herself, Elizabeth Hamilton had been absolutely insistent upon making sure that one of their unused horse stalls was equipped to handle stray and feral animals seeking refuge and was only just now stumbling back into the main house with her hair and dress positively soaked.

"I know what you're going to say, my Hamilton, and I will simply say that it was worth all your worrying!" She called into the very dimly lit house, her fingers quickly undoing her sodden braids and ringing them out over the currently empty suds bucket.

The lack of response was deafening. She frowned to herself but attempted to brush it off, settling on drying herself and changing into a new shift and home-appropriate gown before she settled into making dinner. By the time she looked up from her usual tasks, she was surprised to see just how much time had passed with nary a word from her beloved husband. It was not so much that he could not be fairly quiet when he was absorbed in his work; that was unusual. But for him to have doted on her in the slightest when she knew he'd be worried about her doing more masculine activities combined with the knowledge that he'd been particularly fussy about getting home before the dark clouds released their contents, something was clearly wrong.

"Alexander?" She called into the darkness once again, abandoning her cooking as she crept toward the parlor. "Alexander, are you home?"

Surely he had not left during the time she'd taken outdoors. She frowned more decisively and scooped up one of her candlesticks, climbing up their stairwell and peering into his office, only to find it empty. It was at this point that she began making her way across their upstairs' rooms were quickly, feeling her own anxiety begin at the base of her gut and pool until it felt like it was suffocating her. She finally slid back downstairs on the railing, almost jogging as she checked their library and parlors before finally sitting down in defeated on their bed.

"Where did you go?" She murmured to herself, another clap of thunder shaking the walls right after making her just how aware how lonely this home felt without him at such a late hour. "Surely you aren't reckless enough to attempt travel, even for work…"

A small creak had her head snapping up. She was positively baffled to see their wardrobe door opening ever-so slightly, and a pair of bright blue eyes peeking out from within the pitch blackness. "Betsey? Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

"Alexander!" Eliza cried, swiftly opening the door further as she placed the candlelight on the floor. "What on Earth are you doing in here?! I have been looking all over the house for you, and I was beginning to think of asking the neighbors if they'd seen you leave, and I was so worried-"

"My love, what reasoning could I possibly have to justify going out in such horrendous weather?" Alexander asked in a weak voice that was entirely uncharacteristic of himself.

"I suppose it is the same kind of logic that would cause you to hide within our wardrobe like a silly child!" Eliza scolded, but the heat in her words quickly dissipated when the flame flickered, and she got a proper look of his weary, rosy face. "…Why are you tucked away like this at any rate, my dearest husband?"

"I-" He began, but he was interrupted by a devastatingly loud crack of the sky and a fresh wave of showers that pounded their roof fiercely, and she was confronted by the truth of this situation before he could make up an excuse.

All at once, his demeanor crumpled and he drew in on himself, his knuckles white as he gripped the wardrobe's entrance and shuddered with a tear-laced gasp. He grimaced at once, his eyes cast away from her as he promptly shut the door and audibly shifted back into the tiny room. Eliza longed to comfort him, to talk to him down from his undeniable terror and discomfort at such an intense downpour, but something within her beckoned her to wait a bit before trying again. Reluctantly but determinedly, she retrieved the candle and finished preparing their meal, assembling it into big bowls and sturdy wooden plates as she brewed hot mugs of calming tea. Once everything was arranged on a thick, curved platter, she set a matchbox and four candles- two lit and two as backup- on the edge before finally marching back into their bedroom and using one foot to knock again on the closet door.

"Betsey, darling, I pray that you do not patronize my reaction. I am all too aware already how miserable and childish this is, but I fear I have not been able to shake it throughout my maturing years," her husband's mournful voice replied, and her heart positively broke for him.

"I brought dinner," she replied gently but divisively. "I do not intend to have it alone. May I please join you?"

There was a long pause, so much so that she feared he'd reject her attempt to help. But then the door creaked open again, and she was able to set the platter inside and climb into his extended arms and expectant lap. At first, they remained like that as the weather raged above and all around them, his damp face burrowed into her shoulder as she laced her arms over his and her body pressed firmly into his figure. Beneath her, he was trembling as though he were a leaf amid all of this chaotic weather, and this thought was brought her full understanding of his terror and sorrow. This was not simply a case of an aversion to storms, but a severe fear born out of his experiences living through a hurricane that fully devastated his island and childhood town. It was no wonder that he was like this now despite the fact he had faced more horrors and perils than unpleasant weather conditions, and the thoughts of all he'd endured without telling her made her ache terribly.

"Are you hungry?" She murmured as the rumbling overhead dulled and some of the tyrannical drumming finally found a bit of reprieve.

"…I am," he admitted in a small voice.

She adjusted as little as possible to bring up the platter, settling both of their plates on her lap until he gingerly scooted himself until she was sat between his legs rather than directly atop him, allowing them both more room for their meal and comfort. In favor of eating with no other sounds other than the storm, Eliza talked about her household chores and how she'd ensured the stall would be a sturdy, warm place for all kinds of potential animals, only pausing to take occasionally bites and sips or to gingerly touch his face or hands to remind him that she was there with him.

"Your cooking is as divine as always, my darling wife," Alexander contributed during one such pause. "Thank you for providing it to me, even to this…unusual location."

"It is no problem, my sweet," she assured easily as she smoothed a gown away from his slightly hunched shoulders. "I am glad you enjoyed it. Would you like a book or two for entertainment now?"

Immediately, his arms secured themselves around her once more and he returned his face to her shoulder, so she continued. "Or perhaps I could recall something from memory?"

"That would be lovely, Betsey," he responded quietly, so much so that she was nearly unable to hear him.

Eliza leaned back into him and began simply, telling a few of the children's stories that she'd read so often to her siblings that they'd permanently imbedded themselves in her memory. She moved thereafter to recounting the plots of her most recent literature and was well into the middle of the fourth story's middle section when she realized that he was fast asleep. Not wanting to disturb the first peace he'd evidently felt since they got home, she carefully lifted up one of the burning candles and blew it out before relaxing fully against him.

She did not remember when she dozed off, but the candlelight was hardly above lingering smoke when she opened her eyes again. Alexander was still soundly passed out, and as she carefully rekindled the wick, she realized with a fond smile that his face was adorably wrinkled up in the way it always did when he was deep in thought. Lord only knew what he could be dreaming so deeply about, she considered as she carefully maneuvered her way from his grip and cleaned up their dishes as well as the unused candles. When she peeked back into the closet, she found him curled into himself, his face now more pained and paler than she'd left him.

"I admit, this is not how was expecting the spend this evening with you…" She whispered as she knelt to his side, brushing his curls gently from his face until his expression relaxed again. "But I will do this again and again if it will take even a bit of the pain from your soul, my most beloved."

Despite his previous distress, he was still soundly asleep- more so than he typically was, which she was admittedly grateful for- and Elizabeth was well aware there was no way she could possibly lift him on her own. She settled instead for retrieving their quilts and sheets from their bed, laying them each over her husband before tucking their pillows beneath his head and right beside him. Once everything was set up, she undressed as quickly as possible, cooing and stroking his face intermittently until she was nestled into their temporary nesting. The last step was to blow out the lingering flame and tuck into his arms, which welcomed her with just as much warmth and invited her with little fuss to return to her own slumber.

* * *

The morning light was much brighter than she was used to when Elizabeth roused. She also found herself to be atop their bed, and it was not long before she realized that this was not at all how she'd been when the night was dark. She hurriedly got to her feet and began making her way to Alexander's office, but found him instead in the kitchen and hard at work on a meal.

"Darling, you don't have to do my chores…" She crooned gently as she gently wrapped her arms round him. "You could have simply woken me; I appear to have slept in terribly as is."

"Nonsense!" Much to her relief, the color and assertive confident had returned to her Alexander's face, and he was bright with his usual passion as he leaned down to nuzzle her. "You have done so much for me, much of which was unfounded or unexpected of you. I shall repay you in every way I am, my Betsey!"

"You don't have to repay me!" Eliza exclaimed despite her own warm smile. "You are very generous, my Hamilton, but-"

"I will hear nothing of the sort!" Alex interjected with a smile, stirring his porridge-esque concoction before turning around to kiss her and lead her toward their back door. "And now, my most beloved wife, please take a look at this new day! Our garden is just as grateful for all the rain as I have been!"

"You have been?" She inquired, her hand squeezing his as she joyfully took in their thriving garden. "Alexander-"

"It brought us more intimately together, I used…well, I occasionally still do fear that," he continued with a gentle, sincere smile to her. "But I love the feelings I achieve when we are together like that. No matter the weather we must endure, if it means we are able to have many more moments like we had this past night…I am happy to do so every time."

"Oh, my Alexander…" Elizabeth positively beamed and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him with passion to match his own as they practically danced around the doorway while the sun cast warm beams across them. "Of course."


	26. Dancing Lessons (Hamliza)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-06 -19_

 **Author Note:** Hello again, my dears! This prompt is just a quick drabble because I'm so far behind on Hamliza month, but please enjoy Day Five's prompt: Dance Lessons!

* * *

"I am terribly, terribly sorry! Please, I pray for your forgiveness!"

"You do not have to keep apologizing, my Hamilton."

"I most certainly do! I am going to seriously harm you at the current rate!"

Alexander pulled away from his intended with a grimace, unable to meet her worried gaze as she brought her arms back to herself. His future mother-in-law, Catherine Van Rennselaer, ceased her piano playing and looked to the two of them with a mixture of concern and pity, which did little to help his deteriorating self-confidence. The three of them had been working all throughout the morning and early afternoon on the choreography for the dance that he and his Eliza would share at the beginning of their wedding reception, but as it would seem, Alex's dancing was a positively lost cause. He had stepped on his beloved's feet so many times it was humiliating, he had issues with keeping time and not mixing up the footwork, and he was exceptionally worse at this particular skill the more he got frustrated over it.

Even the two level-headed Schuylers were certainly fed up with him, though they hid it with their usual grace, and he was more than ready to simply announce that a 'first dance' was not necessary. Even if he wished for it desperately, he knew it would break his Betsey's heart and make spidering cracks in the wedding of her dream, and he could not possibly allow such an injustice.

"Shall we take a small break?" Catherine inquired with a small, tight smile, suggesting this was more of an order than a request.

"Yes, we shall," Eliza conceded with a tiny sigh. "Alexander, are you alright?"

"I should be exclusively asking that of you!" He lamented as he took a knee, carefully lifting up each of her feet and inspecting the small bruises and red marks that his own had caused. "My God, Betsey…You must be hurting so sorely, and it is my own doing! What kind of fiancé am I to injure my bride?!"

"You are a fiancé with two left feet, and that is nothing to be ashamed of!" Elizabeth said decisively as she took to her knees, her hands taking his as well and forcing his blue eyes to meet her dark ones. "My dear, you are still not nearly as terrible in these manners as my brothers. Even Peggy took many sessions to be able to take mastery over her balancing!"

"Airing my dirty laundry once more, sister dearest?" Peggy asked teasingly from the doorway where she'd appeared. "I always knew that my most secure and embarrassing tales were safe with you."

"And yet you move more fluidly and gorgeously across the dance floor than any other member of our family!" Eliza exclaimed with her fondness for her sister strongly shown across her face and in her tone. "As a matter of fact, I would bet money that you could help him!"

"No need to gamble; I will offer my services for free, as you are family," Peggy announced with a smirk. "Unfortunately, I am not in the business of my toes being trampled, so I'm going to have to retrieve boots before we begin."

Alexander face reddened more profusely, and it took his Betsey holding him place by the arm to keep him from sulking out of the house and back to the camps. Once Peggy was directly before him, Eliza began to play their wedding tune as skillfully as their mother had, and he nearly forgot he was meant to dance until his hands were seized very tightly and he was thrust forward. He corrected himself as fast as possible, stomping accidently atop the younger Schuyler's boots and making them both grunt.

"You need to loosen up!" Peggy commanded. "I can't teach a beam of steal to waltz, Alexander."

"If I do not remain in proper posture, I will make us both look sloppy," he attempted to argue, but she was quick to put her hand directly over his mouth and shake her head while tutting like a disappointed mother.

"None of that. Who is the expert here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, forcing him to concede that she had a point as he tried to release the tension that had synched up his shoulders and back. "Much better. Now, follow my lead, and one and two and three and four- now square your shoulder and~ Turn! …and two and…"

It was only lasted for a couple of minutes before he pulled away from her as well, the bottoms of his feet throbbing with so much relentless contact with her heavy boots and stumbling over himself. Peggy sighed more loudly as he stalked to the edge of the room, his movements stiff and aggressive as he threw his extremely damp hair into a tight bun and cursed under his breath with all the usual vigor of a soldier.

"Alexander…" Eliza was soon behind him, her hand touching his shoulder comfortingly, but he was fully beyond frustrated with himself now.

"Betsey, perhaps…" Alexander began, but he caught a glimpse of her anxiety-laced expression and immediately threw out the idea yet again. "…perhaps…Perhaps we ought to just try again another day?"

"No way!" Peggy exclaimed sharply. "You would be fine if you would loosen up-! As a matter of fact, to Hell with the choreography! We are just going to do this independent-style!"

"I would rather not make my future wife appear foolish, Miss Margarita," he replied tersely, a bit more abrasively than he intended, but his point was clear. "She is a lady marrying a bastard; there is no need to further shame herself."

"Alexander Hamilton!" Eliza gasped. "How dare you assume such awful things about yourself! Why would you ever feel that way when our love is so deep and true?! Have I not planted my love so intimately within your own heart that you believe my words over this toxic self-hatred?!"

"I-I…I apologize," Alex stuttered, once again unable to meet her eyes despite how she embraced him tightly. "I did not mean to offend my most beloved."

The two of them embraced for a full minute at the very least, their bodies slowly relaxing the longer they held each other with such love and determined fondness. They only broke apart slightly when their wedding song of choice began to play again from the piano, but Peggy immediately shouted from them to 'stay together and dance freely or she would kick both of their posteriors all the way to their big day.' Alexander looked down to his fiancé and gave a small but amused sigh of defeat in tandem with his Eliza, but then she was swinging their arms and pulling away across the cleared floor, and he could not help but laugh as he followed suite. He slowly began to sway with her, then spin them around, hands the only things interlocked as they went more and more quickly around, giggling with childlike glee as they held tight to each other with their own thoughts of the other. He eventually lifted her up fully, inspiring an adorable squeal of laughter from her as he rotated her with the surprising eloquence of an old professional.

Peggy surrender the piano playing to her beaming mother soon enough, her eyes twinkling as she watched the two lovebirds dance and make merriment the way they were always meant to for a wedding dance. "And like that, dear Mother, my work here is done."


	27. Finding Reprieve (Hamliza)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-06 -19_

 **Author Note:**

 **TRIGGER WARNING:** This chapter is about the aftermath of Elizabeth Hamilton's miscarriage. Please, please be careful with this mature drabble if you are sensitive to this kind of thing!

Day Six: Giving/finding comfort

* * *

In the first two weeks after her miscarriage, Elizabeth Schuyler found herself hardly able to get out of bed. She would lie for hours upon hours, staring blankly at the walls or the ceiling, her grief rolling over her constantly and drowning her as she barely attempted to gasp for air.

Her Alexander was there for her as much as he could be while taking on full household duties, his resignation from the army semi-permanent to permanent as he focused on tending to their darling children and their home. He was clumsy and had to learn as he went, but he did a fine job, and she longed to tell him that beneath her grief-induced mutism. No matter how badly she wished to talk, to sing to her very-much living and incredible, loving children, she could scarcely make a sound without dissolving into wracked, pained sobs, and she slept most of her days away when she had the reprieve of her insomnia to do so. She was fully convinced that she was the worst mother to ever disgrace the Earth, and no matter how he attempted to understand and bring her reassurance, Alexander had yet to break through what she could not force herself to say.

It came at an unusual time. Alexander was sitting behind her, having perched her in her favorite bedroom chair after having brushed and washed her hair thoroughly. He was beginning to carefully plait her locks when she finally opened her mouth to find her throat less constricted, her lips finally feeling freed of the invisible gag that had kept them clamped for the past sixteen days.

"I am so, so sorry, Alexander," she whispered, voice hoarse and weak as the grief began crushing her yet again. "I…I lo-lost our b-baby…"

"My Betsey, my most precious and treasured Betsey!" Alexander cried out with so much passion and sincerity that it temporarily rattled her from her soul-crushing pain. "You have done no such thing! These things are tragic and unexplainable, and to no fault of your own. I do not want you to think that for a single moment longer! You should never believe these kinds of mistruths, not if you insist so earnestly that I do not do the same with my own self-doubt and self-hatred! Agreed?"

For the first time it what felt like forever, the devastating pressure at the base of her stomach dissipated, and the tears she sobbed out were the kind that felt more like they were washing away her agony than contributing to it. He held onto her as though she were a treasured stuffed animal and he was a weeping child, and she allowed herself to curl into his sincere, tight embrace as they both wept and whispered reassurances mixed with apologies and affectionate affirmations of love. It was now that she found the most incredible, passionate, and pure comfort from the love of her life about something that had plagued her terribly, and that he found the same within her.

"…And you still love me truly? Even if I cannot fully believe that I am not to blame…at least not now?"

"There is not a single doubt in my mind, Betsey." Alexander kissed her head and gently dried her face and eyes, then gave her unfinished braid a gentle stroke. "Now, why don't I finish this, and we go out to see the children and get something delicious for dinner? Anything you like."

A new warmth enveloped her where cold darkness had made its home before, and she smiled lightly for the first time since their tragedy. "A-agreed."


	28. Mine (Hamliza)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-09-19_

 **Author Note:** Day Seven of Hamliza month: On a Date

I am actually incredibly proud of how this prompt-fill turned out! I really enjoyed writing this one in particular, and sincerely hope that it translates into the overall quality of this one-shot. I am incredibly excited to do Days Eight and Nine in the very, very near future, and I will see you all (hopefully all of you!) again very soon!

Content Warning: Mentions of s*x at the end!

* * *

"And you'll be sure to feed them on their schedule? It's very important that they stay on schedule-"

"Yes, of course."

"And you'll make sure that they're changed regularly, and that Pip is using his potty? He had an accident yesterday afternoon, but it might have been because traffic was so hectic-"

"Yes, of course!"

"And you promise that you'll check in? I know that you want us two to just relax and not worry about being parents for tonight, but I can't just flip off my love and constant worry just because we're apart, and I feel guilty enough about leaving them for so long anyway, and-"

"Alexander!" Angelica gripped her brother-in-law's shoulders and gave him a firm, mostly jovial shake. "Stop talking! I promise you that Pip, Lexi, and Mini Me will be well-loved and tended to here. I am a parent myself, you know."

"I don't know your life and how you raise your tiny humans!" Alex threw his hands up in mock surrender despite how he continued protesting. "You know that we hardly like leaving the children with anyone else, even if you're family-"

"Do you give my parents this much grief? I think not!" Angelica turned him around firmly and gave him a gentle but firm push in his wife's direction, giving said wife an opportunity to take his hands in her own and bring her tightly against her chest. "You two go have a lovely night out!"

"I know that you and John will do a great job with them," Eliza voiced as she all but buried his face between her breasts (not that he was complaining.) "I know that Phillip is thrilled to see his little 'twin', and Angie will have a lot of fun with Kitty."

"And I'm sure my kiddos feel the same. You two go have a big night to yourselves, okay? We'll see you tomorrow," Angelica said confidently, beginning to shut the door with the same easy grace that she practically radiated.

"Bye babies! Bye Phillip, be a good boy and help Auntie Ang take care of your brother and sister-!"

"Bye Alexander~" Angelica replied, going to shut her front door completely but being stopped by the concerned father bracing his hands against the other side.

"Bye, Angelica! Be Papa's good little girl-"

Angelica was now frowning, some of her easygoing demeanor fading. "Bye, Alexander."

"Alex Jr., Mommy and Papa will be back so-"

"Goodbye Alexander!" The eldest Schuyler sibling exclaimed, finally shutting her side fully and leaving the two Hamilton spouses alone for the first time in months.

"I do genuinely appreciate your concern about our babies, but why did you suggest it if you are so terribly worried for their safety?" Eliza asked, insecurity tracing her features as she took his hand and began walking back down the outside walkway of the condominium complex.

"It is nothing at all against your sister, my love," Alex said apologetically, his fingers lacing with hers as they reached the elevators. "And it is not at all related to how I feel about getting a night out my most treasured, phenomenal wife! You have surely noticed that I am, unfortunately, the type to overthink even the simplest things."

"I have," she conceded as she leaned against his shoulder. "But seriously, if we just need to postpone this-"

"Nonsense!" Alex immediately scooped up his wife bridal-style, entering the elevator quickly and using the toe of one shoe to close its' doors. "We are going to have a grand night on the town and that is final, Mrs. Hamilton!"

Eliza, much to his relief, laughed and held on tighter in response as he carried her back to their smaller car, a hatchback with deep sapphire coloring on the doors and plenty of space for short-time travel if the entire family was loaded in. For the still-young couple, it was practically perfect if they were by themselves or only with friends, and they both silently enjoyed the ability to use it as Alex began the hour-long drive to a rather fancy restaurant that they'd reserved nearly eight months prior.

"Does my makeup look alright?" Eliza paused their carefree singing along to their music to ask.

Alex naturally did not give her a glance before responding, "You are always flawless and perfect, my Betsey."

"Alexander!" She whined with no real agitation. "I need to make sure it isn't smudged or clashing with my dress!"

Obediently, he looked over and confirmed that, as always, her makeup and outfit were 'on point', which made her laugh and had him following suite. It was true that with all the chaos of being a parent, he occasionally took for granted the incredible woman he'd made his nearly seven years ago, and so he was incredibly grateful to be able to make up some of his emotional illiteracy with doing this for both of their relaxation and enjoyment. He reached over and took one of her hands now, cupping it and gently rubbing his thumb against her palm, and he couldn't help but blush and grin goofily as she looked over with a fond, mischievous expression.

"You really are an old flirt," she teased fondly. "So excited for tonight that you can hardly keep your hands to yourself, I assume?"

"Always," he rebuked playfully before growing more sincere in tone and expression. "But seriously, Betsey. I am the luckiest man alive to have called you mine for so many years, and to continue to do so until we both take our Earthly leave. Thank you…thank you for being my wife, my best friend, the mother to my children…"

He had to pause now due to the tears clouding his eyes and having to concentrate in pulling into the restaurant's parking lot. Once they were safely in a parking spot, Eliza grabbed his shirt decisively and pulled him against her, her lips locking over his as naturally as toppings melted over ice cream. Even if he wasn't expecting it, he melted into her affection, his hands slipping down to hold her and deepen their embrace. When they finally had to part for air, her face remained close while her spectacular eyes locked with his own, her breathlessness soft and lightly tickling over his lips.

"You are one of the finest men I've ever had the pleasure of meeting, and your love, devotion and passion rival that of my dear Papa's," she whispered fondly. "I am the lucky one, my Hamilton."

"I will contest that!" Alex declared with mock anguish, bringing her into another impassioned kiss until she reminded him (through giggles) that they did have a reservation to keep.

This eatery certainly was fancy, and Alexander could not help but feel underdressed despite how he'd dolled up for this event before dropping the children off. The two of them were led to a candlelit table for two, where he insisted on pulling his wife's chair out before seating in his own spot. They were discussing how not even she recognized every foreign-sounding dish on the menus and the appetizers they were thinking about trying with each other when a rather snooty waiter came over, introducing himself in clipped sentences and waiting for their orders with evident impatience before striding off with no time for them to request anything further for drinks or appetizers.

"Well, that guy's a jackass," Alex muttered bitterly.

Eliza immediately gasped and gripped his hand beneath the table. "Alexander! We are in a nice restaurant! Even if that gentlemen is…not the greatest, we ought to be polite."

And he did, just for his beloved, try to be. He kept his mouth shut as the waiter made snide remarks about their age and 'their generation', and as the food took three times as long to come out when compared to the tables who'd arrived after them, and even when the smug bastard condescendingly suggested that he was 'ordering more butter than he had seen from larger parties' for their bottomless bread basket. However, it all came to a head when they ordered dessert, and Eliza had just playfully dolloped whipped cream on his nose when the damn server came back over to put down their check.

"What charming behavior, young lady," he quipped testily as he set down the book. "I do encourage you to keep your little shenanigans down; our establishment is exclusive to mature adults."

It took Elizabeth gripping both of his hands and even putting pressure on his feet with her own to keep Alexander from coming out of his chair to knock some sense into the jackass. Even though she said she was fine, he could not possibly miss or forgive the tears he saw shining in her eyes, and he finally formulated a non-violent but petty plan for revenge as she excused herself to the bathroom.

"Betsey," he prompted as she settled back down to finish their meal. "What do you say we inconvenience that fuckhead as much as he's done to us all evening?"

"Language!" She hissed, but the mild agitation was lost as she studied him suspiciously. "And we cannot do anything violent or illegal, Alexander. I would much rather bed you tonight than bail you out of jail."

"Oh no, nothing of that sort," he assured with a mischievous smirk to counter the light blush dusting his cheeks from her sexual comment. "Trust me on this."

The first time that he ordered another water, Eliza was still waiting for him to put his plan in motion. By the third time, she was catching on, and by Glass #5 (all of which occurred over the next hour and fifteen minutes), she was joining in. For the next two hours after she caught on, the two ordered fifty-cent glasses of iced water, occasionally throwing in a soft-serve ice cream (the next cheapest menu item) in order to prevent being kicked out for loitering. They talked and joked and enjoyed themselves fully, all while the waiter eventually got so frustrated that he stopped his snide commentary, then finally relinquished their table to another, much more polite waitress. The second that he did, they left a hearty cash tip for said waitress and paid for all of their food and drinks before hurrying outside, giggling and clutching each other the more that they laughed and danced around with delight in their impish actions to someone so unnecessarily mean.

"I cannot believe we got nineteen orders of water and five soft serves!" Eliza gasped as they tried to catch their breath, both of their stomachs aching with their fullness and all of the laughter. "You are positively mad, Alexander Hamilton!"

"But his face every time we did it!" Alex cackled again, sending her into another fit of giggles as they collapsed into their car. "Oh God, Betsey, that was incredible."

"We're so bad!" She announced with a huge grin. "My goodness, my mother would have my head if she knew we did that!"

"Shall we go celebrate our delinquency at the hotel?" He suggested with a waggle of his eyebrows, leading her to agree and announce that he needed to 'put petal to metal, she was growing impatient of all the waiting.'

Nearly the second they got to the nice hotel that they'd already booked, they were practically all over each other. They even made out on the empty elevator once they checked in, and when he carried her to their room, his non-dominant hand slipped beneath her gown before they even got inside. Their lovemaking was passionate and well-needed, and by the time they'd finished their rounds and showered, neither of them bothered with pajamas before crawling back into bed and between the others' arms.

"Seriously, I think I might parents might disown me if they ever hear about what we did to that smug bastard," Eliza finally teased from her spot against his chest, her fingers idly twirling his auburn curls and eyes heavily lidded.

With another kiss to her head and a warmer embrace, he murmured back with his complete adoration for her coating his words. "Very well; I shall again and again happily call you mine."


	29. Family Pictures (Hamliza)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-14-19_ (I'm v behind, send help lol)

 **Author Note:** Day Eight of Hamliza month: Domestic Family Life

* * *

"PAPA! NO FIND SHOES!"

"MAMA! ALEX IS HOGGING THE HAIRDRYER AGAIN!"

"I GOT A STAIN ON MY SHIRT!"

"MY BLUE DRESS _IS_ DIRTY; MAMA HELP!"

"PAPA!"

It was going to take a true miracle for either Alexander or his wife to be able to get ready themselves, it would seem. Under normal circumstances, neither of them would mind terribly, least of all Alexander, but today was family portraits and they were all already running late. He abandoned trying to iron his dress shirt and strode into the hallway, scooping up the closest child that was screeching for him and settling said three-year-old against his waist as he walked into the living room.

"Here they are," he announced while producing William's nicest shoes from just beneath the couch. "Now, can you put these on for me like a big boy? Papa isn't dressed yet, either."

"I do it!" William assured, his tiny hands gripping one of his equally tiny shoes and beginning to shove it over one foot.

"Remember to undo the straps, buddy," Alexander advised gently, plucking one of the Velcro covers up to prove his point. "See? That makes it a lot easier to get on."

"Bill'ant!" William exclaimed, glowing with youthful excitement as he looked up to his father.

Despite all of the chaos and stress wearing him down, the father of seven could not help but return a genuine smile and gently ruffle his youngest boy's rumbled hair. "Thank you, son, but _you_ are the brilliant one."

"PAPA!" James marched into the living room, his arms crossed over his untidily buttoned shirt and face ablaze with anger. "Alexander Jr. is being a butt and won't let me use the hairdryer!"

"Alex, stop being selfish and share the hairdryer!" Alexander called down the hallway, earning the son in question poking his head out from nearby bathroom with a scowl.

"I just started using it, and besides, this is mine! He can use the smaller one if he can't wait!" Alex insisted, head disappearing and quickly being replaced by his hand holding a travel-sized hairdryer by its' tangled cording as the larger hair tool clicked back to life.

"Jaime, we don't have time for your two's endless quarreling right now," Alexander said firmly, softening slightly when his fourth child looked up to him with clear signals that he felt betrayed and hurt among his frustration. "Look, you can use Mama and I's for now, okay? Go on and stay out of her way, please."

"Thanks Papa!" The boy took off in the direction of the master bedroom immediately, and Alexander simply shook his head with an exasperated but fond sigh as he turned to catch his oldest daughter on her way back toward him room.

"Dear, can't you wear another dress? You know we don't have time to finish the laundry right now," he noted gently.

"But I _told_ Alex to be sure and wash it multiple times!" Angelica exclaimed as the angry tears in her eyes slipped down her face. "He never listens!"

"Angie, darling, you are welcome to borrow one of my dresses if you'd like." Eliza appeared in their doorway now, nearly glowing in how perfect she looked despite how clearly unready she was. "Jaime and I are in the bathroom right now, so you'll need to go back to your room to change-"

"Really, Mama?" The sixteen-year-old was immediately rosy with excitement and hope once more. "I can wear something of yours?"

"Yes, of course, baby. I would suggest looking toward the back of my clothes if you want it to fit a little better, okay?"

"THANK YOU MAMA!" Angelica squealed as she dashed toward the room, pausing briefly to tightly embrace her mother before ducking into the closet.

"That crisis is averted; what's next?" His Betsey said with a small, tired smile to Alexander; even that made his heart flutter, even all their years of being together later.

"I assume somebody is going to try and burn down our house," Alexander replied while mirroring her expression. "At least our little one and eldest are behaving themselves…"

"ACK! Lizzie!" Phillip's voice cried out from somewhere in the house.

"…for the most part," Alexander amended with a small grimace.

As it turned out, their youngest child had decided to take a handful of strands out of her oldest brother's hair and was now attempting to eat them while Phillip tried to hold her and clean up a very evident spot of spit-up from his suit jacket. Alexander quickly took little Lizzie and threw the strands of hair away, giving him a sympathetic smile to him as he soothed the baby's fussing.

"Just toss that top in the laundry and find another one," he advised. "I'll take her from here. Thank you, son."

"Anytime," Phillip replied with a twisted-up expression, which was perfectly understandable if not relatable for his father.

"My, my, little one," Alexander cooed nevertheless to his daughter as he carried her back into his bedroom. "You're quite the little ball of energy today! Aren't you? Aren't you, Lizzie?"

Lizzie babbled happily in response, in turn causing her father to smile genuinely despite all of the stresses of trying to get a big family ready and out of the door for a formal affair. As he entered his room again, Alexander took note that John, their fifth child, was standing patiently in front of Eliza as she combed out his mass of curls. The boy's jacket was also sitting beside her on the bed with baking powder on top of a large wet spot located on the right side of the fabric; he assumed this meant his wife was trying to remove and dry whatever stain he'd yelled about earlier. As for himself, he gently set their youngest in her playpen and ducked into the bathroom to finish cleaning up the edges of his facial hair. Unsurprisingly, James was still in there and using the blow dryer, but the lack of talking between them for several minutes was bound not to last.

"When am I going to grow hair on my face like that?" James inquired, touching his own youthful face while studying his father's intently.

"Well, let's see…You're eight now, so it shouldn't be terribly longer before you'll begin seeing hairs pop up around your lip and chin," Alexander mused with a reassuring smile to the child. "But don't be in too much of a hurry, son. There is a lot of upkeep involved to make facial hair look nice, and it can be a big pain in the summertime."

"Is that why a lot of guys just shave it off when it's hot?"

"That's exactly why."

"Then why don't you do that too, Papa?"

The tips of his ears warmed, and Alexander was immediately grateful that said facial hair covered the light blush now adorning his cheeks. "Because I'm afraid I have a baby face, son."

"What's a baby face?" James screwed up his nose and peeked out of the bathroom to his younger sister. "Like…your face looks like Lizzie's?"

"Kind of," Alexander conceded with a small chuckle. "It means that my face looks a lot younger than I actually am, and it makes me look…silly. Does that make sense?"

James considered it for a moment before nodding. "Okay! At least it's better than having a girl face. If you had a girl face _and_ a baby face, I bet not even a big beard would fix that!"

"I'll consider myself lucky," the father of seven chuckled. "If your hair is dry, run along and finish getting ready, okay? And tell your brothers and sister that we're leaving in fifteen minutes, so to get on it!"

"Okay Papa!" The boy brightened at the responsibility and quickly dashed out, yelling into the hallway with new energy, leaving his father to sigh softly and roll his eyes fondly as he turned his electric razor back on.

"Children," Eliza offered from behind him when was finally satisfied with his face. "What I would give to have that much energy again."

"Hear here," he grunted without any real malice, turning to kiss her and blinking in alarm when she took his face hostage in one hand while reaching for something on the bathroom counter immediately thereafter.

"You're certainly one to talk," she teased before beginning to rapidly pat beneath his eyes with some kind of tan sponge. "You work more tirelessly than anyone I've ever known!"

"I didn't make it here by being sedentary, dear," he reminded with a bit of a pout. "And what on Earth are you doing to my face?"

"Well, Mister Workaholic, I'm covering up the circles and bags beneath your eyes!" She declared as she recovered her strangely shaped sponge with similarly colored liquid makeup. "Maybe if you took breaks and got more sleep, I wouldn't have to put makeup on you~"

"Sure you would!" He teased back with a small snort. "Have you seen my face? I need it _far_ more than you ever have or ever will need!"

"Alexander Hamilton, what did we talk about?" Eliza's expression filled with worry, and he immediately regretted slipping in a self-deprecating joke against his better judgement.

"Sorry," he said bashfully. "I'll…I'll keep working on it, baby. I promise."

"I know you will!" Eliza said firmly before spritzing his face with something in a black bottle and kissing him gently. "There."

"Thank you, love," he said affectionately while brushing a few stray hairs from her face. "You look as flawless as ever."

"You're quite the flatterer, Mister Hamilton," she crooned back while tapping his nose lightly. "But I thank you for it."

"MAMA MY HAIR ISN'T COOPERATING!" Alex. Jr and Angelica yelled simultaneously, pulling both parents apart at once.

"PAPA!" William shrieked immediately thereafter.

"Back to work," Alexander said with a small smile to his exasperated but doting wife. "We can get back to cuddling when this is all done and we get everyone down for naps, yeah?"

"Right," she agreed with a determined smile. "Let's do it."

It took nearly twenty more minutes for everyone to be fixed up properly and loaded into the family car, but they managed to only be eight minutes tardy to their original appointment with their well-loved photography business. Alexander and Eliza sat off to the side for much of the first hour, largely occupied by keeping the younger ones entertained and happy for the cameras. After that, they were filtered in and out with their seven angels, and Alexander could not help but practically drool every time his wife held their children close and gave a genuine smile to the photographers snapping away. She was perfect and so were his kiddos, even when they acted flawed or difficult, and he affirmed yet again that he was the luckiest man in the world for having known them, more so than for any of his other achievements.

"Alright, let's start wrapping this up with some shots of the whole family!" The head photographer announced during the final twenty minutes of their booked slot. "Mom and Dad, I want you to sit on the bench here, alright? Phillip, Angelica, and Alex Jr., I need all of you to stand in the back, and we'll adjust the rest of you in a minute, okay?"

Alexander laced his hand with his Eliza's as their children were arranged around them, smiling to her with a mixture of relief and affection before their youngest was placed in his lap and she began trying to stand up against him. "Whoa there, Liz! Where are you going, hmm? Where are you going, silly girl?"

He could feel his wife's eyes on him for a few moments longer, causing him to flush happily and give her a wink before their youngest son leaned against her lap with a sleepy whine. Eliza began to murmur comfortingly to the boy, gently rubbing his back as James stood directly behind his youngest brother and John stood horizontally flush to him on Alexander's side.

"You've done really great today, son," Alexander offered to his six-year-old, as the boy looked just as tired as William and slightly irritated as he fidgeted lightly in place. "I'm very proud of you, my little lamb."

At this, John brightened up while giving his father an affectionate, adoring grin that positively melted the man's heart all over again. The photographers began snapping away and waving different toys to get the younger ones' attention, and once Alexander was sure that they'd taken at least half of their memory cards up with the full-family shots, the crew encouraged the children to sit back and relax while they 'took some nice shots of Mommy and Daddy for the wall.'

"Of just us?" Alexander questioned, admittedly surprised.

"Of course," Eliza answered before the photographers could. "After all, we _are_ the reason all of our beautiful children came to be, and I love posing with my most handsome man."

"As I do with my most gorgeous wife," he crooned.

Their younger children naturally gagged and complained while the other ones teased, and Alexander was once again grateful for his facial hair mostly concealing his embarrassment, but if truth were told he didn't truly mind at all.


	30. A Surprise Date (Hamliza)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-15-19_ (I'm still v behind lol)

 **Author Note:** Day Nine of Hamliza month: At the Beach

* * *

"Am I allowed to take off this blindfold yet?" Eliza asked with a smile as she felt the car come to a complete stop and heard her husband push the gear into 'park.'

"Not yet, my turtle dove!" Alex insisted, laughter lacing his words. "You'll just have to trust me for a little longer, okay?"

"I always trust you, but I want to know where you've brought me!" She exclaimed in a similar tone, but she didn't fuss as he retrieved something out of the back of the car before opening her door and helping her to stand.

The scent of the ocean was too strong to deny as soon as she got out into the open air. She inhaled deeply and let it out in a happy sigh, and she could only imagine her partner smiling as he took her hand and led her toward the sound of crashing waves. The sand was cool between her toes as they trekked forward, and she could not help but grow nervous that he may be taking her to touch the water. They were well in the month of October, after all, and they were here too late in the day for there be a chance of the sun making it pleasant to feel. She was bracing for impact when they suddenly changed directions, walking horizontal to the tide for only a couple of minutes before they stopped all together.

"Are you cold?" Alex inquired as she stood alone for a few moments while a cold breeze swept through, causing her to shiver.

"I'm quaking with anticipation!" She exclaimed playfully. "Can I take it off _now_?"

"Not yet, not yet!" He laughed, but she felt the heavy weight of some kind of blanket over her shoulders before he continued rustling around somewhere ahead of her, and this made her content to relax patiently.

It took a few more minutes of excited anticipation on her part, but at last he retook her hands and led her to stand on some kind of heavy fabric before encouraging her to sit down and get comfortable. The blanket or towel beneath her was much warmer than the chilled sand, and she found herself able to readjust the blanket or coat to rest more casually against her in response. She heard her Alexander settle in front of her, and the unmistakable click of a lighter before he finally placed his hands on either side of her blindfold.

"Alright, we can take it off now," he said, sounding quite pleased with himself. "Three…two…one!"

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkening night that fell over the country while she was unable to see, but she let out a thrilled gasp once they did. They were sitting on a thick quilt, one that she recognized as being from her mother, and there were lit tealights all around the edges as well as larger candles burning in mason jars on the blanket. A large picnic basket was neatly set off to the side, and she could already see all kinds of delicious food inside, such as grapes, a thick loaf of bread, cheese, and chocolates. Plates were already arranged between them along with silverware and napkins, and in the spectacular colors adorning the sky and the sparkling candlelight, her most beloved spouse practically glowed before her with his adorably nervous smile and bright eyes.

"Do you like it?" He asked nervously.

She grinned so broadly that her face ached as she threw her arms around him, closing the small space between them as she laughed in delight and kissed him passionately. The two of them rolled around, trying to be conscious of their flames while also losing themselves in the others' embrace and lips. When they finally sat back up around five minutes later, both of them were rumpled but laughing breathlessly, and she carefully maneuvered herself back in place as he gave her an expected but adorable pout.

"You don't want to sit in my lap and watch the tide?" He whined lightly.

"I'd much rather sit so I can watch you," she replied with a smile.

The two of them adjusted so that they could face each other at an angle while still looking at the darkening horizon. They then ate their feast, laughing and talking like it was their very first date rather than their hundredth or so. Even in the short year and a half she'd known him, Eliza felt as though she'd been with her husband all of her life, and she knew confidently that he felt quite the same. It was why they were engaged after ten months and wed on their first anniversary, and certainly why their family was beginning to grow already.

"Thank you for bringing me out here," she finally murmured as the last of the sunset fled from the sky. "This was…really special."

"And it's not over yet!" He took her hands in his, kissing them gently before helping her back to her feet. "Will you join me to the hot tub?"

"A hot tub? In this weather?" Eliza laughed but wrapped herself into his arm again. "Besides, we would need to be renting one of these beachside condominiums to use their facilities."

"Well, I suppose that ruins that surprise~" Alex drawled mischievously.

Immediately Eliza perked up, twisting around to look at him properly. "You didn't! Oh my goodness, Alexander, but your job-?"

"Took off," he interjected with a smile, his hand lowering to her belly before he gave it a kiss. "I took off the entire week to spend here with you before our baby is born. You always want me to take breaks, and I would not rather take one with anyone else in the world."

Thanks to her being an online college student, she moved to the next issue, albeit with hopefulness that he had really taken care of everything. "What about packing?"

"Already did it and got Angie and Peggy to help me," he confirmed. "And the hot tubs are inside, so we can still use them without freezing our asses off."

Life was unpredictable with being wed to Alexander Hamilton; in that she could trust as much as she did for him overall. She helped him pack up their dinner as much as she could with her ever-growing belly, then slipped her hand in his and hoisted up the bigger latter he'd produced as they blew out the candles. "Let's get our break started, my Hamilton."


	31. Kisses (Hamliza)

_Original Publishing Date: 12-15-19_ (Still v behind, send coffee and health)

 _Author Note:_ **CONTENT WARNING** : This is a VERY mature chapter! This is not smut, but it does detail some parts of lovemaking, so viewer discretion is advised!

Day Ten of Hamliza month: Kisses

* * *

Eliza laid on the bed she shared with Alexander, eyes closed and curled up tightly so that nobody was able to properly look at her. In the nearby nursery, their miracle child, their angelic Little Phil, was sound asleep in his bassinet while his siblings slept or otherwise occupied themselves throughout the Grange. For another evening, she found herself alone with her thoughts while her husband worked tirelessly in his office. He'd been even more of a family man since the soul-crushing death of their eldest son by way of a horrendously unfair duel, but he still wanted to provide a kinder, more comfortable life for his family than he'd had growing up, so she would still spend evenings alone until he crawled in much later in the morning to join her in bed.

She had several sewing projects that she could typically be happy to do until she grew more fatigued, but she could not seem to rouse herself from the depressive slump she'd collapsed into bed with. She could no longer bear to look at her body any more than absolutely necessary, and thanks to many of her projects being for herself as a result of recent pregnancy, it would be impossible to do them accurately and attractively without the mirror and self-measurement. Having eight beautiful children had taken its toll on her body through the years, and given that she was quite insecure in her figure post the birth of their much-adored second daughter, her confidence was completely lost with the birth of their final son as well as the never-ending, torturous grief that the loss of their firstborn brought. Being the generous and fairly private person that she was, she did not care to bother her loved ones with such frivolous talk when she knew they'd protest her self-deprecation with vigor, but it mattered tremendously to her (which only made her inner turmoil worse.)

She was so consumed with her self-hatred that she did not notice the bedroom door opening, and she was positively startled when the bed creaked down and a pair of warm arms wrapped fully around her torso. "Alexander! You're done quite early!"

"Why are you lying here all alone in the dark, my dear?" Alexander murmured as he adjusted against her, his body fitting against hers naturally from the all years they'd spent being close to each other, but now it only reminded her of the flaws he so intimately knew of her physical frame.

"I suppose I do not feel my best," Eliza mumbled weakly by way of excuse. "I do not want to infect you with my ailment."

"Shall I ring for a doctor?" At once he was sitting up again, his eyes frantic as they scanned her and his hands quickly clutched hers. "Do you reckon that it's fever? What have your symptoms been? Are you feeling faint or fatigued?"

She wanted to brush him off with general excuses for a temporary sickness spell, but the way he was looking at her made it clear that she could not lie to her husband. The two of them had already lost so incredibly much, and neither of them had the slightest idea what they would do or how they would go on without the other. She did not figure that his heart would be able to bear more breakage now, and there was no reason other than her more selfish inner voice that she should push him away now. The poor man had been punished enough for the heartbreak he'd caused, and she had certainly endured enough of the painful separation to last the rest of the century.

"I…I am afraid this condition is more within my head," Eliza explained carefully. "I…regret to tell you, but my confidence concerning my… _very_ well-worn body has waned more severely tonight. I am sure it is nothing that a night of sleep cannot ease the pangs of, so please, do not worry yourself too adamantly."

"Your confidence is diminished in concern to your 'well-worn' body?" Alexander echoed with evident disbelief lacing his words. "Why on Earth would you speak with such negative connotation to yourself? You are the most beautiful and flawless woman in this country! Hell, in the world!"

Silence enveloped them with the silent answer for some of her doubt. Eliza knew well that the affair that her husband had participated in was more about his own weaknesses and less about the gorgeous young girl that seduced him, but it was not lost on her how this youth compared to her own aching, drab body. Nearly all of her youthful attributes were sagging and wrinkled, showing her age more than her face gave away, but even her eyes had developed deep bags and marks to rival even her husband's while lines lightly adorned her cheeks. She was beginning to be respected more as an elder by those in her life despite the fact that she'd just born a perfectly healthy child, and that bothered her more than she could've anticipated it would.

"May I try something?" He asked softly after at least a couple of minutes of the uncomfortable unspoken tension.

"Go ahead," she replied quietly, tinges of guilt trailing her words.

Alexander gave a thoughtful nod before sliding out of the bed, leaving her feeling cold and somewhat abandoned despite her logical thoughts that he would be back shortly. She did not anticipate how he came to the foot of their bed, nor how he gently unbundled her from both the sheets and her own self until she was laying flatly before him, legs spready slightly and feeling entirely exposed before his calculating gaze.

"Alexander-" She whined weakly, encouraging him to quickly lean down and press two gentle kisses to the tops of her feet, something so unprecedented that she let out a small squeak.

"I love your feet because they help you get from place to place, and they ground someone as incredible as you to the world," he whispered tenderly against her flesh before easing back up onto the bed on his knees. "And…I love your ankles, because they help you keep your balance and stay comfortable when you're going through your day."

He proceeded to tenderly kiss each of her ankles, something that made her laugh softly despite her confusion. "My Hamilton, what in the world are you on about?"

"Well, my most beloved Betsey has clearly lost her means of identifying every perfect aspect of her body, so I intend to remind her of how I just adore every part of her!" Alexander replied with complete confidence that left no room for protest.

And so, Eliza laid obediently as he trailed his lips up her legs, whispering compliments against her skin, occasionally making her giggle. He loved her shins because they were strong and adorned with 'markings of a good life'. He loved her knees because they helped her bend down to give affection as well as talk to their children. He loved her thighs because they gave their babies a soft place to brace against during birth. He spent extra time between her legs, mumbling endless compliments that sent her into complete extasy and made her feel positively empowered. It had been quite some time since she was the sole recipient of pleasure, and she was too breathless and high from such continuous, expert elation that she did not even insist on trying to give him similar treatment when he gently denied it in favor of pampering her.

He loved her hips because they helped her turn and do all that she made up her mind to do. Her loved her belly because it kept their children safe for nine months, and because it meant she got to enjoy all the lovely foods in life. Again, he paid special mind to her stretch marks, the long, red and pink blemishes that she found to be so glaring, but that he praised endlessly for her health and for her body's resilience to adjust and sacrifice to make life. He loved her arms because they helped her effortlessly take care of things and hold her family close. He loved her hands because they were warm and dainty, and because they were expertly skilled in so many fine activities. She moaned hungrily when he praised her chest, and even allowed herself to put her hands over his and ask softly for more. She allowed herself to release all of her doubts as he kissed her skin, mumbling praise and moaning out pleasure as they both engaged in intimacy that finally allowed release to the tension and pressure that lives plagued with tragedy built up. They were certain, a solid and real force full of passion and love despite all of the changes that their lives had brought. Eliza was eternally grateful to be reminded of this now.

"My angel," he crooned softly once they were cuddling in the aftermath of their lovemaking. "May I finish my validations?"

"You still want to?" She panted softly, humming in pleasure despite herself.

He did, and he did. He loved her shoulders because they carried weights- both physical and emotional- greater than most could even imagine. Her loved her hair because it was long and beautiful, and how it showed her graceful aging. He loved her neck because he could kiss it and feel her heartbeat when he did. He loved her chin because it helped her intake delicious things, her mouth because her lips were soft and they were something he kissed often, her nose because it was more attractive than anyone's else's. He loved her eyes because he could see into them endlessly, see how the golden flecks sparkled and danced in the light, and see her inner beauty with crystal clarity. He loved her forehead for how it wrinkled when she scrunched her nose, and because it was a prime kissing location as well. He loved her head because it was level, and he needed it desperately to counter his's heatedness.

"And I love you," Eliza whispered blissfully, finally tucking into his embrace and relaxing fully against her life partner. "I love you…And I love me when I am with you."

"As I do so intimately to you, my Betsey."


End file.
